University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


v-i 


'" 


_J 


WESTWARD    HO! 


A    TALE. 


BY    TKB    AUTHOR    OF   "THE    DUTCHMAN'S  FIRESIDE," 
&C.  &<•.  &C. 


'  Come  all  you  likely  lads  that  has  a  mind  for  to  range, 
Into  some  foreign  country,  your  situation  for  to  change; 
In  seeking  some  new  pleasures  we  will  altogether  go, 
And  we'll  settle  on  the  banks  of  the  pleasant  Ohio. 

Come  all  you  girls  from  New  England  that  are  unmarried  yet, 
O  eome  along  with  us,  and  young  husbands  you  shall  get ; 
For  there's  all  kinds  of  game  besides  the  buck  and  doe, 
To  hunt  with  dog  and  rifle  all  on  the  Ohio." 

Ballad. 


IN   TWO'VOLUM^S.  ' 


VOL.   I. 


NEW-YORK: 
PRINTED  AND  PUBLISHED  BY  j.  &  J.  HARPER, 

NO.    82    CLIFF-STKEET. 

AND   SOLD   BY  THE   PRINCIPAL  BOOKSELLERS   THROUGHOUT 
THE   UNITED   STATES 

1832, 


.- 


[Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1832, 
in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United 
States  for  the 'Southern  District  of  New-York.] 


TO   THE  READER. 


THE  devotees  of  sects  and  parties  are  exceedingly 
prone  to  imagine  that  every  book,  whatever  may  be  its 
nature  or  object,  is  intended  to  operate  in  favour  of  or 
against  their  cherished  doctrines  or  policy,  and  to  test 
its  opinions  and  sentiments  by  that  standard  alone. 
Such  a  rule,  applied  to  fictions  more  especially,  is  cal- 
culated to  put  a  tyrannical  restraint  on  an  author  in  the 
delineation  of  characters,  as  well  as  in  detailing  the 
sentiments  and  language  naturally  growing  out  of  their 
particular  habits,  manners,  and  situations.  Having 
conceived  a  character,  it  should  be  his  aim  to  make 
it  act  and  talk  as  such  a  person  might  naturally 
be  supposed  to  do  in  similar  circumstances.  But  we 
think  he  ought  not  to  be  held  responsible  for  this  any 
farther  than  probability  and  the  decorums  of  life  are 
concerned.  Neither,  as  it  appears  to  us,  is  he  justly 
chargeable  with  hostility  to  any  particular  class,  or  pro- 
fession, or  sect,  if  he  should  happen  to  exhibit  a  char- 
acter for  the  purpose  of  exposing  their  occasional  ex- 
cesses or  absurdities.  All  we  conceive  a  writer  justly 
responsible  for,  in  this  point  of  view,  are  those  senti- 
ments and  opinions  he  puts  forth  when  he  appears  in 
his  own  proper  person,  and  makes  his  bow  to  the  reader. 
Thus,  for  instance,  the  little  exhibitions  of  hostility  to 
the  Yankees  occasionally  introduced  in  the  following 
work  are  given  as  characteristic  of  the  feelings  and 
prejudices  of  those  to  whom  they  are  ascribed,  and  not 
as  the  sentiments  of  the  author.  So  also  with  regard 
to  the  scene  in  Philadelphia,  which  is  simply  an  exhi- 
bition of  what  it  is  supposed  would  naturally  be  the 


997859 


4  TO   THE    READER. 

feelings  of  a  sagacious  slave  in  the  situation  and  under 
the  circumstances  described.  The  author  yields  to 
none  in  respect  for  the  motives  of  those  who  are  sin- 
cerely anxious  to  rid  this  country  of  the  embarrassments 
of  slavery ;  and  none  more  heartily  wishes  the  thing 
were  possible,  at  a  less  risk  to  the  happiness  of  both 
master  and  slave. 

The  great  aim  of  the  author  has  been  to  combine  an 
important  moral,  with  the  interest  of  a  series  of  incidents, 
and  sketches  of  scenery,  character,  manners,  and  modes 
of  thought  and  expression,  such  as  he  knows  or  ima- 
gines exist,  or  have  existed,  in  particular  portions  of 
the  United  States.  The  story  professes  no  connexion 
with  history,  and  aspires  to  no  special  chronological 
accuracy ;  though  it  is  believed  that  sufficient  re- 
gard has  been  had  to  truth  in  this  respect  to  give 
it  the  interest  of  something  like  reality.  For  very 
many  of  his  ideas  of  the  great  Mississippi  Valley  the 
author  is  under  particular  obligations  to  the  "  Recollec- 
tions" of  the  Rev.  Timothy  Flint,  which  contain  by 
far  the  most  picturesque  description  of  that  remarkable 
region  which  has  ever  fallen  under  his  observation. 
This  work  has  not  met  its  deserts,  and  he  should  be 
highly  gratified  if  this  passing  notice  served  in  any  way 
to  call  the  public  attention  to  its  interesting  details. 

New-York,  May,  1832. 


WESTWARD    HO! 


WESTWARD   HO' 


A    TALE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

"  The  dark  and  bloody  ground." 

WHO  that  hath  ears  to  hear  hath  not  heard  of 
"  Old  Kentucky/'  which,  having  now  arrived  at 
the  age  of  almost  forty  years,  is  entitled  to  assume 
the  honours  of  a  patriarch  among  the  young  fry 
of  empires  springing  up  like  mushrooms  in  the 
vast  valley  of  the  great  father  of  waters  ?  Its 
early  history  is  a  romance  ;  its  growth  a  miracle  ; 
its  soil-a  garden  ;  its  women  half  angel,  half  he- 
roine ;  and  a  portion  of  its  men,  as  hath  been 
credibly  asserted,  half  horse,  half  alligator ;  to 
which  has  lately  been  added  a  third  ingredient,  in 
compliment  to  those  monstrous  productions  of  the 
genius  of  Fulton  that  now  float  on  the  rivers  of 
the  west",  smoking  like  volcanoes,  and  scattering 
showers  of  fire,  to  wit,  "  a  small  sprinkling  of  the 
steamboat." 

Less  than  seventy  years  ago  there  breathed  not 
a  single  white  man  within  its  wide  limits.  In 
that  short  period,  which  scarcely  comprises  the 
life  of  a  single  individual,  the  face  of  the  earth 
and  the  face  of  man  have  undergone  a  total  change 
in  this  land  of  wonders.  The  wild  exuberance 
of  nature  has  given  place  to  the  rich  products  of 


8  WESTWARD   HO! 

human  labour ;  the  wild  animals  of  the  forest 
have  be-jii  superseded  by  peaceful  flocks  and 
herds  ;  and  the  wild  Indian  has  retired  before  that 
£es tiny .wfrich  pursues  him  everywhere.  Nothing 
but  the'  rivers,  the  mountains,  and  the  traditions, 
remain  to  attest  the  truth  of  the  picture  given  by 
the  early  adventurers  to  this  rich,  romantic  re- 

fion.  The  nations  of  hunters,  the  wandering 
ings  of  the  woods,  who  once  claimed  dominion 
over  the  deep,  dark  forests,  and  the  beasts  that 
inhabited  them,  and  which  might  be  termed,  in 
truth,  their  only  constant  occupants,  have  by  de- 
grees disappeared,  after  a  struggle  of  half  a  cen- 
tury, so  keen,  so  extensive,  so  bloody  and  revenge- 
ful ;  so  full  of  peril,  suffering,  and  disasters ;  so  fatal 
to  the  red  man  and  the  white,  that  this  smiling, 
fruitful  region,  now  the  abode  of  almost  a  mil- 
lion of  prosperous  people,  obtained,  and  still  re- 
tains, in  the  traditions  of  past  times,  and  in  the 
memory  of  the  old  surviving  settlers,  the  omi- 
nous, melancholy  appellation  of  "  THE  DARK  AND 

BLOODY  GROUND." 

The  free,  daring,  and  adventurous  life  of  the 
early  settlers  in  this  land  of  promise,  gave  to  them- 
selves and  their  posterity  a  character  of  enthusi- 
asm, vivacity,  courage,  -hardihood,  frankness,  and 
generosity,  which  in  some  respects  distinguishes 
them  from  the  rest  of  mankind.  Reared  in  the 
midst  of  dangers,  and  residing  at  a  distance  from 
each  other  ;  possessing  in  general  large  estates 
and  numerous  slaves  ;  seeing  few  equals,  and  re- 
cognising no  superiors  ;  accustomed  to  think  and 
act  for  themselves  ;  their  characters  have  a  prim- 
itive energy,  a  singularly  bold,  fresh,  and  original 
cast.  The  settled  forms  and  opinions,  which  have 
been  adopted  without  inquiry,  and  followed  as  a 
matter  of  course  by  the  older  states  have  in  a 


WESTWARD    HO!  9 

great  measure  given  place  to  a  code  of  their  own, 
originating  in  their  early  peculiar  situation  and 
circumstances.  Their  ideas  partake  of  a  strong 
infusion  of  poetical  exaggeration  ;  they  speak  on 
a  large  scale,  and  know  none  of  the  degrees  of 
comparison  but  that  of  the  superlative  ;  their  pas- 
sions are  far  more  in  want  of  the  bridle  than  the 
spur  ;  and  the  popular  language  of  the  boatmen 
is  .a  singular  compound  of  tropes,  figures,  and 
metaphors,  all  drawn  from,  or  having  allusion  to, 
their  early  modes  of  life,  and  the  scenes  and  occu- 
pations to  which  they  are  most  accustomed. 

Nurtured  in  the  wilds,  in  the  midst  of  all  the 
grand  features  of  nature,  and  familiar  with  dan- 
gers, or  at  least  the  recent  recollection  of  dangers, 
— accustomed  from  their  youth  upwards  to  hear 
the  surviving  pioneers  of  the  west  relate  the  hard- 
ships and  sufferings  they  encountered,  endured, 
and  overcame,  when  they  stood  alone  in  the  wil- 
derness, watched,  waylaid,  and  beset  in  secret  by 
cunning  and  revengeful  savages, — they  acquired 
an  habitual  consciousness  of-  the  presence  of  per- 
petual  perils,  and  learned  to  look  death  and  tortures 
in  the  face  without  flinching.  The  result  of  their 
peculiar  situation,  habits,  and  modes  of  thinking 
has  been  a  race  of  men  uniting  a  fearlessness  of 
danger,  a  hardy  spirit  of  enterprise,  a  power  of  sup- 
porting fatigues  and  privations,  an  independence 
of  thought,  which  perhaps  were  never  associated 
with  the  pursuits  and  acquirements  of  civilized 
life  in  any  other  country  than  the  United  States. 

This  is,  indeed,  the  great  peculiarity  of  that 
newest  of  all  possible  worlds,  called  the  Western 
Country.  Nowhere  else  will  be  found  that  union 
of  apparent  incongruities  which  exists  in  this  re- 
markable region.  Nowhere  else  do  we  find  in  log- 

A  O 


10  WESTWARD   HO! 

cabins,  in  the  midst  of  primeval  forests,  and  be- 
yond the  reach  of  all  social  intercourse,  women 
whose  manners  were  formed  in  the  drawing-room, 
and  men  who  have  figured  in  the  great  world  as 
warriors,  statesmen,  and  orators.  The  tale  we  are 
about  to  relate  connects  itself  with  the  early  his- 
tory of  this  vast  and  growing  empire  of  the  west. 


WESTWARD  HO!  11 


CHAPTER  II. 

A  genuine  Tuckahoe. 

CtiTHBERT  DANGERFIELD,  or,  as  he  was  com- 
monly called  (for  every  second  man  you  meet 
with  in  this  country  has  a  title  to  a  certainty), 
Colonel  Dangerfield,  was  a  Virginia  gentleman — 
a  regular  Tuckahoe — whose  family  originally 
came  over  with  Captain  John  Smith  "  the  con- 
queror," and  had  resided  for  several  generations 
on  James  River,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Turkey 
Island,  below  the  beautiful  city  of  Richmond. 
His  plantation  was  large  enough  to  have  entitled 
him  in  Germany  to  at  least  half  a  vote  in  the  diet ; 
the  number  of  his  subjects,  alias  slaves,  equal  to 
those  of  a  Russian  boyar  ;  and  his  spirit  was  that 
of  a  prince ;  taking  it  for  granted  that,  agreeably 
to  the  old  mode  of  comparison,  the  spirit  of  a  prince 
is  much  more  liberal  than  that  of  a  gentleman. 

At  the  period  of  which  we  speak,  Turkey  Island 
and  the  shores  of  James  River,  on  either  side,  as 
far  down  as  James  Town,  the  cradle  of  our  New 
World,  were  embellished  by  the  seats  of  a  great 
number  of  the  ancient  gentry  of  Old  Virginia.  It 
was  here  that  the  Randolphs,  the  Byrds,  the  Pages, 
the  Carters,  the  Harrisons  oif  Berkeley  and  Bran- 
don, together  with  divers  others  equally  hospitable, 
kept  open  house  to  all  comers,  rich  and  poor  ;  and 
no  stranger  of  any  pretensions  to  good  breeding 
ever  declined  a  visit  without  manifest  danger  of 
undergoing  a  defiance,  or  laying  himself  open  to 


12  WESTWARD   HO? 

a  suspicion  of  being  a  horse-stealer,  or  a  fugitive 
from  justice.  Never  were  they  so  happy  as  when 
their  houses  were  filled  with  visiters,  and  it  is  on 
record  that  strangers  sometimes  forgot  themselves 
while  enjoying  their  hospitality,  and  fancied  them- 
selves at  home.  Such  was  their  horror  of  formal 
visits  and  formal  invitations,  that  to  this  day  there 
is  a  coolness  between  two  families  of  these  parts, 
which  arose  from  an  ancestor  of  one  of  the  houses 
having  once  left  his  card  at  the  mansion  of  the 
other.  It  was  held  a  mortal  offence  to  good  neigh- 
bourhood to  send  notice  of  a  visit,  and  no  man 
considered  himself  welcome  if  he  went  on  an  in- 
vitation. If  Randolph  of  Turkey  Island  thought 
his  neighbour  Dangerfield  on  the  opposite  shore 
delayed  his  visit  too  long,  he  caused  the  old  black 
herald  to  sound  his  horn  to  summon  him  to  the 
field  or  the  table  ;  and  the  consequence  of  neglect 
or  disobedience  in  answering  it  would  have  been 
a  mortal  feud,  enduring  even  unto  the  fourth 
generation. 

Never  were  there  people  so  rich  with  so  little 
money.  Plenty,  nay.  profusion,  reigned  all  around 
them  ;  yet  many  lived,  as  it  were,  by  anticipation. 
They  were  almost  always  beforehand  with  their 
means,  and  the  crops  of  the  ensuing  year  were 
for  the  most  part  mortgaged  to  supply  the  de- 
mand of  the  present.  They  feared  nothing  but  a 
bad  season  for  tobacco,  a  deed  of  trust,  and  a 
Scotch  merchant.  They  were  a  high-spirited 
race,  among  the  best  specimens  of  aristocracy  in 
modern  times ;  but  they  have  almost  all  disap- 
peared from  their  ancient  possessions.  Industry 
and  economy,  when  not  counteracted  by  laws  and 
institutions  to  prevent  their  otherwise  inevitable 
result,  will  always,  sooner  or  later,  effect  a  trans- 


WESTWARD   HO!  13 

fer  of  property  from  the  rich  to  the  poor.  Here 
and  there,  however,  one  of  these  ancient  lords  of 
the  soil  still  maintains  his  state  along  the  shores 
of  James  River  ;  and  we  have  yet  on  our  palates 
the  relish  of  some  of  the  sacred  relics  of  the  old 
Madeira  which  is  still  dispensed  with  open  hand 
at  their  hospitable  boards. 

Colonel  Dangerfield  was  rich  in  lands  and 
slaves  ;  but  what  products  of  lands  or  human  la- 
bour can  supply  the  demands  of  careless  prodi- 
gality, whose  perpetual  drains  will  at  length  con- 
vert the  richest  soil  into  the  sands  of  the  desert  ? 
Your  tobacco  is  a  sore  devourer  of  the  juices  of 
the  earth,  and  too  many  crops  in  succession  will 
exhaust  it,  so  that  it  will  be  incapable  of  produc- 
ing any  thing  but  weeds  and  sumack  for  years. 
The  colonel  kept  open  house,  and  his  necessities 
ran  him  so  hard,  that  he  ran  in  debt  to  the  Scotch 
merchant  two  years  in  anticipation.  To  meet 
these  new  difficulties,  he  ran  his  land  still  harder, 
extended  his  tobacco-fields,  repeated  his  crops  on 
the  same  soil,  until  at  length  it  gave  up  the  ghost, 
and,  like  an  over-cultivated  intellect,  became  in- 
curably barren. 

The  Scotch  merchant  was  reasonably  patient 
for  two,  or  rather  three,  special  reasons.  He  was 
on  the  whole  a  good-natured  and  liberal  man  ex- 
cept in  small  matters ;  he  knew  that  to  press 
a  planter  too  zealously  for  the  payment  of  his 
debts  would  be  to  lose  the  business  of  all  the 
others,  who  would  rise  up  and  make  common 
cause  against  such  ungentlemanly  avidity ;  and, 
moreover,  he  was  aware  that,  according  to  the 
ancient  law  of  the  Old  Dominion,  there  was  no 
way  of  getting  hold  of  real  estate  except  by  a  deed 
of  trust  given  voluntarily  by  the  possessor,  For 


14  WESTWARD   IIO! 

these  reasons,  his  patience  lasted  rather  longer 
than  might  otherwise  have  been  expected. 

But  the  patience  of  a  creditor  is  nothing  com- 
pared with  that  of  a  debtor.  The  one  is  a  mere 
hack-horse,  that  breaks  down  at  the  nrst  heat ; 
the  other  a  full-blooded  racer — an  Eclipse^  Henry, 
or  a  Bonnets  of  Blue — which,  like  Old  Virginia 
herself,  "  never  tires."  The  merchant  at  length 
got  out  of  patience,  and  began  to  hint  at  a  deed 
of  trust, — infamous  words  and  outrageous  to  the 
ear  of  a  planter !  The  colonel  challenged  the 
Scotch  merchant  for  insulting  him  with  such  a 
proposal ;  but  the  latter  answered,  like  a  reason- 
able man,  that  if  he  would  only  pay  him  his 
money,  he  would  fight  him  afterwards  with  great 
pleasure.  But- it  was  rather  more  agreeable  to  a 
debtor  to  liquidate  his  debts  with  a  bullet  than  for 
a  creditor  to  be  paid  after  that  fashion.  From 
that  time  forward  he  dunned  the  colonel  by  every 
post,  which,  however,  in  justice  to  the  merchant, 
ran  only  once  a  week. 

Some  men  don't  mind  being  dunned  every  day ; 
they  become  accustomed  to  it  in  time,  and  attain 
to  an  extraordinary  dexterity  in  the  invention  of 
excuses.  But  Colonel  Dangerfield  was  not  one 
of  these  ;  he  could  not  invent  a  falsehood  for  the 
life  of  him,  and,  if  he  could,  he  would  never  have 
condescended  to  utter  one.  The  situation  of  his 
affairs,  which  gradually  grew  worse  and  worse, 
and  the  importunities  of  his  creditor,  which  daily 
became  more  pressing,  worried  him  to  the  soul. 
He  lost  his  spirits,  and,  with  them,  all  relish,  for 
social  enjoyment;  he  became  moody,  testy,  ab- 
stracted, and  abstained  from  all  his  usual  amuse- 
ments within  doors  and  without.  All  at  once, 
however,  he  seemed  to  rally  again.  A  notice  ap- 


WESTWARD   HO!  15 

peared  in  the  public  papers,  under  the  signature 
of  a  noted  gentleman  sportsman,  offering  to  run 
his  imported  gray  mare  Lady  Molly  Magpie,  four 
mile  heats,  at  the  next  fall  meeting,  against  all 
Virginia,  for  any  sum  from  one  to  twenty  thou- 
sand pounds,  old  currency.  Colonel  Dangerfield 
pricked  up  his  ears  ;  he  had  a  famous  horse  yclept 
Barebones,  who  had  long  reigned  lord  of  the  Vir- 
ginia course,  and  won  him  so  much  money,  that 
he  might  have  paid  the  Scotch  merchant  if  he 
had  not  lost  it  all  in  betting  on  bay  fillies,  bright 
sorrels,  and  three  year  olds  of  his  own  breeding, 
all  of  whom  had  the  misfortune  to  bolt,  break 
down,  or  be  distanced,  to  his  great  astonishment 
and  mortification.  He  determined  to  accept  the 
challenge,  after  which,  as  is  usual  with  all  wise 
men  when  they  have  made  up  their  minds,  he 
went  to  consult  his  wife  on  the  matter. 

Mrs.  Dangerfield  was  one  of  the  choicest  orna- 
ments of  the  sex ;  a  saint  in  her  closet,  a  matron 
in  the  nursery,  a  lady  in  her  kitchen  as  well  as  in 
her  parlour;  delicate,  sensible,  accomplished  in 
all  that  becomes  a  woman  ;  a  watchful  mistress, 
a  careful,  mild,  yet  firm  mother;  a  wife  who, 
without  attempting  to  govern,  aimed  only  to  con- 
trol the  imprudence  or  overrule  the  foibles  of  her 
husband  by  modest  firmness,  in  urging  arguments 
better  than  he  could  oppose.  Nine  times  in  ten 
the  colonel  fell  into  a  passion  at  being  thwarted 
in  his  wishes  or  whims,  and  flounced  away  in  dis- 
gust ;  but  he  seldom  failed  to  return  in  due  sea- 
son, and,  as  Mrs.  Dangerfield  had  the  good  sense 
and  forbearance  to  refrain  from  renewing  the  sub- 
ject, would  come  over  to  her  opinion  with  some- 
thing like  the  following  salvo : — 

"  My  dear,  upon  reflection,  I  think  I  did  not 


16  WESTWARD    HO  ! 

quite  understand  you  this  morning ;  you  meant 
so  and  so." 

"  To  be  sure  I  did,  my  dear ;  how  could  you 
think  otherwise  ?  I  agreed  with  you  perfectly." 

"  O,  well,  if  that  is  the  case,  I  shall  certainly 
not  oppose  you.  Do  just  as  you  please,  my  dear." 

"  No,  just  as  you  please,  my  dear." 

"  Very  well,  I  leave  it  to  you  entirely  ;"  and  the 
affair  was  amicably  adjusted.  The  colonel  was 
satisfied,  or  rather  he  chose  to  be  satisfied,  that  he 
had  his  own  way ;  and  Mrs.  Dangerfield  was  too 
considerate  to  undeceive  him. 

Having,  as  we  premised,  made  up  his  mind  to 
accept  the  challenge  of  Lady  Molly  Magpie,  he 
sought  his  wife,  and  apprized  her  of  his  resolu- 
tion. Being  a  sensible,  discreet  lady,  she  of  course 
attempted  to  dissuade  him  from  carrying  it  into 
effect. 

"  You  know,  colonel,  that  Barebones  is  getting 
old  ;  he  is  now  eight  years  of  age." 

"  Seven, — only  seven,  my  dear, — last  grass." 

"  Well,  that  comes  to  almost  the  same  thing  ; 
it  is  now  the  beginning  of  autumn.  But  besides 
this,  you  remember  he  faltered  and  almost  broke 
down  in  his  last  contest  with  Betsey  Richards. 
Everybody  said  if  Betsey  had  not  flown  the 
course  he  would  have  been  beaten." 

"  Then  everybody  talked  like  fools,"  replied  the 
colonel,  not  a  little  nettled. 

Mrs.  Dangerfield  smiled. 

"  What  everybody  says  must  be  true,  my  dear, 
according  to  the  old  proverb." 

"  D — n  old  proverbs  !  but  the  short  and  the 
long  of  the  matter  is,  that  I  am  determined  to 
accept  this  defiance.  It  shall  never  be  said  I 


WESTWARD   HO!  17 

flinched  from  a  challenge  of  old  Allen  of  Clare- 
mont." 

"But  Allen  of  Claremont  has  not  challenged 
you,  my  dear." 

"  But  he  has  challenged  my  horse,  and  that  is 
just  the  same  thing." 

"  The  challenge  is  general." 

"  Yes,  but  I  know  he  meant  me.  He  can't  get 
over  being  distanced  the  first  heat  at  the  last  Jail 
meeting  at  Tree  Hill,  by  my  three-year-old."  And 
the  colonel  chuckled  mightily  at  the  recollection 
of  his  triumph  over  his  old  neighbour  and  rival 
Allen  of  Claremont. 

"  Well,  colonel,  if  you  are  determined — " 

"  I  am  determined — but — but  yet — I  want  to 
consult  you  a  little  about  it." 

"  What,  when  you  are  determined  ?"  said  Mrs. 
Dangerfield,  a  little  archly. 

"  1 — I — I  want  your  opinion,  Cornelia,"  said 
Colonel  Dangerfield;  drawing  his  chair  confiden- 
tially towards  his  wife. 

"  My  opinion  is  always  at  your  service,  my 
husband,  such  as  it  is  ;  and  be  assured  that  what- 
ever it  may  want  in  discretion,  is  supplied  by  a 
desire  which  is  never  absent  from  my  heart, — 
that  of  contributing  to  your  honour  and  happi- 
ness." 

"  I  know  it,  I  know  it,"  cried  he,  and  the  dotard 
kissed  her  tenderly,  though  they  had  been  mar- 
ried almost  nine  years ! 

"  Listen  to  me,"  and  here  his  proud  spirit  hesi- 
tated for  a  moment ;  "  I  am  in  debt  more  than  I 
have  the  means  of  paying." 

"  I  know  it,  my  dear." 

«  You  know  it ! — in  the  name  of  heaven  how 


18  WESTWARD   HO! 

came  you  to  know  what  I  have  tried  all  I  could 
to  keep  secret  ?" 

"Affection  is  both  prying  and  sagacious.  I 
have  seen  you  every  week  of  late  receiving  letters 
the  handwriting  of  which  I  know,  and  the  con- 
tents of  which  I  know  ;  for  I  know  that  you.  my 
husband,  never  did  any  act  in  your  life,  save  one, 
that  could  cause  you  to  shrink  from  communi- 
cations from  any  man  living,  and  exhibit  such 
melancholy  feelings  on  reading  them." 

"  And  yet  you  never  inquired  about  them  ! 
wonderful  woman !" 

"•  I  wished  to  convince  you  that  a  woman  can 
keep  her  tongue,  if  she  cannot  keep  a  secret," 
replied  the  lady,  good-humouredly. 

"  Well,  my  dear,  I  am  in  debt,  deeply  in  debt ; 
my  crops  are  mortgaged  for  three  years  at  least ; 
the  merchant,  when  I  call  for  farther  advances, 
duns  me  for  those  already  made.  My  only  chance 
is  upon  Barebones, — I  intend  to  risk  twenty  thou- 
sand at  least,  and  if  I  win,  as  no  doubt  I  shall,  it 
will  make  me  a  man  again." 

"  But  if  you  lose  ?" 

"  No  danger  of  that ;  Barebones  may  defy  all 
Virginia.  But  if  I  should  lose  by  any  unlucky 
accident, — I  shall  be  no  worse  off  than  before.  I 
am  already  indebted  more  than  I  can  pay  without 
a  miracle." 

"  Not  so,  my  husband, — I  think  I  can  put  you 
in  a  way  of  retrieving  your  affairs  without  a 
miracle." 

"  Ah  !  as  how,  Cornelia  ?" 

"By  saving  your  next  three  years'  crops  to  pay 
the  Scotch  merchant." 

"  Save  !  impossible  !"  cried  the  colonel,  in  utter 
astonishment ;  "  I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing 


WESTWARD    HO!  19 

iu  the  whole  course  of  my  life.  How  the  deuse 
shall  I  go  about  it  ?" 

"  In" the  first  place  dispose  of  your  race  horses." 

"  Impossible  !  what  will  Allen  of  Claremont 
say  to  it?" 

"  Never  mind  what  he  says  ;  he'll  think  you 
wiser  than  he  ever  did  before.  In  the  next  place 
we  must  omit  our  winter's  visit  to  Richmond." 

i  Impossible  !  what  will  Mrs.  Grundy  and  all 
the  rest  of  your  old  friends  say  ?" 

"  Let  them  say  what  they  please.  I  believe 
one  half  the  miseries  of  this  life  originate  in  our 
foolish  fears  of  what  people  will  say  of  us.  Let 
us  do  right,  and  let  others  wonder  if  they  will." 

"Weil,  well,"  said  Colonel  Dangerfield,  shaking 
his  head ;  "  what  next  T 

"  We  must  leave  oif  keeping  open  house,  and 
treating  all  comers." 

"  I'll  be  hanged  if  I  do  !"  cried  he,  in  a  rage  ; 
"  what,  shut  up  my  doors,  like  a  miserable  hunks, 
and  turn  my  back  and  pretend  not  to  see  strangers 
as  they  pass  ?  no,  no,  that  won't  do, — what  will 
Randolph  of  Turkey  Island  say  to  that  ?" 

"  Why,  what  can  he  say,  but  that  you  have 
changed  from  an  imprudent  to  a  prudent  man  ?" 

"  Prudence  !  prudence  is  a  beggarly  virtue,  and 
I  hate  the  very  name  of  it.  Randolph  of  Turkey 
Island  swears  it  is  a  very  aldermanly  virtue,  and 
I  am  of  his  opinion." 

"  It  is  a  cardinal  virtue." 

"  Yes,  but  not  the  virtue  of  a  cardinal ;"  and 
the  colonel  laughed  himself  almost  into  good- 
humour  at  this  happy  turn  ;  "  well,  what  else  ?" 

"  We  can  turn  the  four  carriage  horses  to  the 
labours  of  the  field,  and  Use  them  on  Sundays  to 
go  to  church," 


20  WESTWARD   HO  I 

Now  the  colonel  valued  his  carriage  horses  next 
unto  his  prime  favourite  Barebones.  They  were 
full  brothers  and  full  blooded,  and  their  ancestors, 
we  believe,  came  over  with  William  the  Con- 
queror. In  short,  they  had  a  pedigree  that  might 
have  figured  in  Ragman's  roll,  or  that  of  Battle 
Abbey.  The  idea  of  degrading  them  to  the 
plough  overturned  all  the  complacency  of  spirit 
engendered  by  the  lucky  joke  about  the  cardinal, 
and  the  colonel  waxed  wroth. 

"  Yes,"  exclaimed  he,  "  yes,  turn  the  blood  of 
the  Godolphin  Arabian  to  the  plough  tail,  work 
them  to  skin  and  bone,  till  their  sleek  glossy  coats 
become  like  the  hair  of  a  Narragansett  pacer,  and 
then  hitch  them  to  the  carriage  on  Sunday,  go  to 
church  on  a  snail's  gallop,  and  have  old  Allen  of 
Claremont  laugh  in  his  sleeve  at  us. — curse  me 
if  I  ever  heard  of  such  an  unreasonable  woman. 
No,  madam,"  continued  he,  with  an  air  and  tone 
of  lofty  sublimity,  "  no,  madam,  never  shall  it  be 
said  that  Cuthbert  Dangerfield  turned  a  blood 
horse  to  a  plough's  tail,  and  disgraced  his  ances- 
tors, himself,  and  his  posterity.  Hear  me,  Mis- 
tress Dangerfield  ! — Barebones  shall  enter  against 
Molly  Magpie,  as  sure  as  he  has  legs  to  run,  and 
ground  to  run  upon.  Old  Allen  of  Claremont 
shall  never  have  it  to  say  I  refused  his  challenge." 
And  the  colonel,  according  to  custom,  went  to 
consult  with  his  prime  confidant  and  counsellor, 
Mr.  Ulysses  Littlejohn,  whom  it  may  be  proper 
to  introduce  to  our  readers. 

.This  worthy  wight  was  of  an  unknown  relation- 
ship to  Colonel  Dangerfield,  a  sixteenth  cousin  re- 
moved, who  on  the  score  of  his  near  connexion  with 
the  family  was  considered  fully  entitled  to  claim 
bed  and  board  and  maintenance  at  his  hands.  He 


WESTWARD    HO!  21 

had  inherited  a  pretty  good  estate  which  he  spent 
like  a  gentleman, — that  is  to  say,  by  paying  no 
attention  to  his  affairs,  and  wasting  every  year 
more  than  his  income.  This  is  an  infallible 
method  ;  but  it  was  too  slow  for  Mr.  Littlejohn. 
Finding  he  was  going  down  hill,  he  determined 
to  relieve  himself  by  a  speculation.  Accordingly 
he  borrowed  money,  and  built  a  mill  on  a  fine 
stream  of  water  which  ran  through  his  estate. 
This  lucky  hit  would  undoubtedly  have  retrieved 
his  affairs,  had  not  the  stream  soon  after  dried  up 
in  consequence  of  the  draining  of  a  great  marsh 
about  twenty  miles  off.  Ulysses  was  advised  to 
prosecute  the  owner  of  the  marsh  for  this  un- 
neighbourly  act.  Accordingly  he  went  to  law, 
and  everybody  prophesied  that  he  was  a  ruined 
man.  The  law,  as  all  know  who  have  had  ex- 
perience in  the  matter,  is  as  it  were  a  snail  with- 
out legs.  They  say  it  actually  does  move,  but  it 
is  not  always  that  people  can  see  it  without  spec- 
tacles. It  is  therefore  little  to  be  wondered  at, 
that  rogues  should  complain,  as  we  are  credibly 
informed  they  do,  that  the  law  is  so  sjow  they 
sometimes  lose  all  patience  before  they  are  brought 
to  the  gallows.  Be  this  as  it  may,  Mr.  Littlejohn 
waited  patiently  five  years,  and  was  rewarded  at 
last  by  a  decision  against  him.  He  was  obliged 
to  give  a  deed  of  trust  on, the  remainder  of  his 
estate  to  pay  a  bill,  which,  if  it  had  been  cut  into 
slices,  would  have  made  five  dozen  tailor's  mea- 
sures ;  and  he  was  indebted  for  a  mill  that  had 
no  water  to  set  it  going.  But  he  was  predestined 
to  happiness  in  this  world  in  despite  of  fortune  ; 
everybody  pitied  him,  yet  he  was  the  merriest 
rogue  in  all  the  country  round,  and  did  more 
laughing  than  any  ten  men  in  Virginia, — we 


22  WESTWARD   HO! 

mean  white  men  ;  for,  notwithstanding  the  ne- 
groes are  so  unutterably  miserable,  it  somehow 
or  other  happens  that  they  are  a  hundred  times 
merrier  than  their  masters. 

When  the  time  came  to  pay  the  money  he  had 
borrowed,  he  offered  his  creditor  the  mill  he  had 
built  with  it.  The  creditor  refused,  and  Mr.  Lit- 
tlejohn  thought  him  a  very  unreasonable  person. 
To  make  an  end  of  the  matter,  in  due  time  he 
was  obliged  to  sell  his  estate,  the  proceeds  of 
which  were  just  sufficient  to  pay  his  debts  :  and 
at  the  age  of  eight-and-twenty,  was  left,  as  the 
phrase  is,  high  and  dry  ashore,  the  most  helpless, 
the  most  careless,  and  the  most  gentlemanly  pau- 
per, that  ever  broke  bread  in  the  house  of  a  six- 
teenth cousin  removed.  In  proportion  as  Ulysses 
grew  poor,  'he  multiplied  his  visits  to  Colonel 
Dangerfield,  whose  kindness  increased  with  his 
poverty?  At  first  he  came  only  to  dine,  and  it 
was  amazing  to  see  the  relish  with  which  he 
drank  the  colonel's  wine,  and  cracked  his  jokes  as 
if  he  had  ten  thousand  a  year.  By  degrees  his 
visits  became  more  frequent,  and  longer ;  he 
sometimes  staid  all  night ;  from  this  he  got  to 
two  or  three  days,  and  finally,  when  his  estate 
departed  from  him,  and  he  had  nothing  left  but  a 
blood  horse  descended  from  Flying  Childers  by 
the  mother's  side,  he  rode  over  to  Powhatan, — 
gave  his  horse  to  one  blackey,  his  saddle-bags  to 
another,  and  quietly  took  possession  of  his  ac- 
customed room.  No  questions  were  asked,  not  a 
word  said, — every  thing  was  understood ;  he  was 
perfectly  welcome,  and  the  matter  was  settled. 

He  had  now  remained  upwards  of  six  years  an 
inmate  of  the  family,  and  durjng  all  that  time 
had  never  once  talked  of  going  away,  that  he 


• 


WESTWARD   HO!  23 


might  be  pressed  to  stay.  Nay,  what  is  still  more 
remarkable,  he  had  never  been  reminded  by  a 
look,  a  hint,  a  word  of  unkindness,  a  neglect 
of  the  servants,  or  an  omission  of  the  colonel  to 
ask  him  to  take  wine,  that  he  was  a  beggar  and 
dependant.  The  blackeys  loved  Massa  Leetle- 
john,  or  Massa  Lysses,  as  he  was  indifferently 
called,  for  he  made  them  laugh  at  his  odd  jokes  ; 
the  children  of  the  house  followed  him  about  like 
pet  lambs,  for  he  had  a  pleasure  in  levelling  him- 
self to  their  capacity,  shared  in  their  amusements, 
made  them  whistles,  told  them  stories,  and  gained 
their  little  hearts,  by  repressing  all  pretensions  to 
superior  wisdom.  Mrs.  Dangerfield  was  always 
particularly  careful  to  have  his  room  kept  in 
order,  his  shoes  well  cleaned,  his  apparel  whole 
and  decent  ;  and  in  the  season  of  flowers,  you 
never  failed  to  see  a  bouquet  placed  on  his  table, 
and  a  bunch  of  evergreens  in  his  fireplace. 

As  to  the  colonel,  he  had  become  so  accustomed 
to  Mr.  Littlejohn,  that  he  could  not  live  without. 
him.  His  easiness  of  temper,  his  pleasing  dispo- 
sition, his  cheerful  habit  of  mind,  and,  above  all, 
his  unparalleled  knack  at  killing  time,  were 
invaluable  qualities  in  a  companion  to  a  country 
gentleman,  who  read  little,  worked  less,  and  was 
out  of  the  sphere  of  those  city  amusements  which 
in  a  great  degree  disarm  idleness  of  its  leaden 
sting.  Never  -man  was  so  expert  at  getting 
through  a  morning  as  Mr.  Ulysses  Littlejohn, 
without  doing  any  earthly  thing  either  for  "  pos- 
terity or  the  immortal  gods."  Many  a  time  did 
he  and  the  colonel  set  forth  on  horseback  for  a 
morning  ride,  and  get  no  farther  than  the  gate- 
way, where  they  stopped  peradventure  to  discuss 
,the  propriety  of  a  new  gate-post  or  some  such 


24  WESTWARD   HO! 

matter.  The  colonel  loved  conversation,  but  was 
not  very  fruitful  in  suggesting  topics,  or  bringing 
ideas  to  bear  upon  them.  When,  therefore,  he 
was  lucky  enough  to  get  hold  of  a  subject,  he  did 
not  like  to  part  with  it  in  a  hurry,  any  more  than 
a  dog  does  to  resign  his  only  bone,  let  it  be  ever 
so  bare.  He  soon  tired  of  a  person  who  never 
contradicted  him,  for  without  something  of  this 
sort  conversation  is  a,pt  to  fall  dead  to  the  ground. 
To  do  Ulysses  justice,  though  a  dependant,  he 
felt  his  situation  so  lightly,  or  rather  forgot  it  so 
entirely,  that  he  never  had  the  least  hesitation  in 
opposing  the  opinions  of  the  colonel  on  all  occa- 
sions where  he  really  differed  with  him.  Thus 
they  lived  together  in  perpetual  collision,  the  best 
friends  in  the  world,  for  they  helped  each  other 
to  kill  time,  and  Mr.  Littlejohn,  in  addition  to 
his  excellence  at  making  indifferent  jokes,  had  a 
still  more  invaluable  faculty  of  laughing  heartily 
at  a  dull  one,  after  the  manner  of  the  members 
of  the  English  parliament. 

The  colonel,  who,  as  we  premised,  departed  in 
wrath  from  the  presence  of  Mrs.  Dangerfield  in 
search  of  Mr.  Littlejohn,  found  that  worthy,  loung- 
ing as  was  his  custom,  about  the  stable  ;  for  there 
is  a  singular  affinity  between  an  idle  man  and  a 
horse, — at  least  there  was  between  Ulysses  and 
honest  Barebones,  who  never  failed  to  twinkle  his 
nostrils  and  utter  a  most  significant  chuckle  when- 
ever he  received  a  visit  from  his  friend. 

"  How  is  Barebones  to-day,  cousin  Littlejohn  ?" 
said  the  colonel. 

"  Prime,  colonel." 

"  Do  you  know  that  Mrs.  Dangerfield  says  he 
would  have  been  beaten  at  Tree  Hill  course  last 
year  if  Betsey  Richards  had  not  bolted  ?" 

'^   4.  .  •  "  > 


WESTWARD    HO!  26 

If  Mr.  Littlejohn  had  not  loved  and  respected 
Mrs.  Dangerfield  above  all  created  beings,  he 
would  certainly  have  spoken,  as  it  were,  slight- 
ingly of  her  knowledge  in  horseflesh,  for  this  gross 
slander  of  his  friend ;  as  it  was,  he  only  said, 

"  Pooh,  colonel !  what  can  a  woman  know  about 
these  matters  ?" 

"  Come,  come,  Ulysses ;  no  reflections  on  my 
wife.  I  wish  I  may  be  shot  if  she  isn't  the  clev- 
erest woman  in  Virginia." 

"  Well,  I  know  she  is.  Heaven  forbid  that  I, 
who  look  up  to  her  as  an  angel  down  here  below, 
should  say  any  thing  in  her  disparagement.  But 
it's  no  reflection  on  a  woman  to  say  she  knows 
nothing  about  horseflesh." 

"  I  tell  you,  Lyssy,  she  knows  but  every  thing. 
I  sometimes  think  the  deuce  is  in  her,  for  she 
seems  to  know  more  than  I  do — hey !" 

"  Why,  I've  sometimes  thought  so  myself,  colo- 
nel." 

"  Then  you  thought  like  a  goose,  Lyssy,"  re- 
joined the  other,  who  did  not  like  to  have  any- 
body agree  with  him  in  this  surmise.  "  But, 
Lyssy, — here,  Lyssy," — and,  beckoning  him  close, 
he  half- whispered  in  his  ear, 

"  I've  a  great  mind  to  accept  old  Allen  of  Clare- 
mont's  challenge,  and  run  Barebones  against 
Molly  Magpie, — hey,  boy  ?" 

"Have  you?"  quoth  Littlejohn,  in  the  same 
tone,  rubbing  his  hands. 

"  I'm  determined  on  it." 

"  Are  you,  by  gum !"  exclaimed  the  other,  in  a 
suppressed  voice  of  delight. 

"  Yes  ;  but — but — do  you  -think  there  is  any 
truth  in  what  Mrs.  Dangerfield  said  about  Bare- 
bones  ?" 

VOL,  i, — B 


26  WESTWARD   HO! 

"  Not  a  word ;  he  never  was  in  better  condition ; 
and,  to  show  you  I  am  sincere  in  my  opinion, 
damme,  colonel,  if  I  don't  go  your  halves  in  the 
bet." 

"  Humph  !"  said  the  colonel ;  but  he  did  not  dis- 
play as  much  gratitude  at  this  generous  offer  as 
might  be  expected. 

The  result  of  this  conference  was  a  sudden  jour- 
ney of  Mr.  Littlejohn  up  to  Richmond,  and  the 
subsequent  appearance  in  the  newspaper  of  an 
acceptance  of  the  challenge  of  Allen  of  Claremont 
by  Dangerfield  of  Powhatan,  to  run  Barebones 
against  Molly  Magpie  at  the  next  October  meet- 
ing" for  twenty  thousand  pounds,  play  or  pay. 


27 


CHAPTER  III. 

Showing  how  the  Gray  Mare  proved  the  better  Horse 
in  more  ways  than  one. 

ALL  the  opposition  of  Mrs.  Dangerfield  to  the 
whims  and  freaks  of  the  colonel  was  preventive. 
When  the  thing  was  past  recall,  she  ceased  to 
allude  to  it,  unless  it  happened  to  turn  out  well, 
when  she  never  failed  to  give  him  due  credit  and 
compliment  him  on  his  sagacity.  When,  there- 
fore, she  saw  in  the  public  papers  the  acceptance 
of  the  challenge  of  Allen  of  Claremont  recorded  in 
our  last  chapter,  she  knew  the  matter  was  decided, 
and  kept  her  forebodings  to  herself.  She  even 
affected  a  cheerful  confidence  in  the  result,  far 
different  from  her  real  anticipations.  Should  any 
of  our  bachelor  readers  wish  to  know  where  to 
find  such  a  wonder  of  a  woman,  \ve  will  go  so  far 
to  allay  their  curiosity  as  to  assure  them  that 
there  is  actually  such  a  one  in  the  land  of  the  liv- 
ing, and  that  she  resides — the  Lord  knows  where ! 

Time  rolled  on — the  decisive  hour  approached 
—  (he  worthy  Mr.  Littlejohn  for  once  gathered 
himself  together,  cast  aside  the  vis  inertia  with  a 
mighty  effort,  and  became  a  most  indefatigable 
attendant  on  his  illustrious  friend  Barebones,  who 
was  petted  as  never  quadruped  was  petted  before, 
except  it  might  peradventure  be  a  prize  ox,  a 
Teeswater  bull,  or  a  royal  ram  from  the  Rambou- 
illet  flock  during  the  raging  of  the  merino  mania. 
It  was  now  the  charming  month  of  October,  when 


28  WEST'WARD    HO! 

the  earth  and  its  foliage,  the  sky,  its  sun  and  stars 
are  so  often  shaded  with  a  thin  misty  veil,  that 
while  it  obscures  the  face  of  nature,  at  the  same 
time  renders  it  more  touchingly  beautiful.  All 
Virginia  was  in  motion,  from  the  alluvial  to  the 
primitive  formation,  from  Chesapeake  Bay  to  the 
Blue  Ridge.  The  high-mettled  cavaliers  of  the 
"  Ancient  Dominion"  mounted  their  high-mettled 
steeds,  anticipated  the  next  year's  crop  of  tobacco, 
and  came  with  pockets  richly  lined ;  and  many  an 
ample  estate  long  after  rued  the  racing  of  that  day. 
Nor  must  we  omit  to  record  that  Mrs.  Dangerfield 
took  occasion  to  remind  the  colonel,  that  as  it  was 
possible  he  might  lose  his  bet  of  twenty  thousand 
pounds,  his  honour  required  that  he  should  be  pre- 
pared to  pay  on  the  spot.  He  accordingly  once 
more  wrote  to  his  old  friend  the  Scotch  merchant, 
offering  to  give  him  a  deed  of  trust  for  his  whole  es- 
tate if  he  would  advance  the  sum  of  forty  thouand 
pounds.  The  proposal  was  accepted,  the  deed 
executed,  and  the  inheritance  of  six  generations 
became  subject  to  the  disposition  of  a  stranger. 

At  length  the  day  arrived  big  with  the  late  of 
Lady  Molly  Magpie  and  Barebones,  of  Allen  of 
Claremont  and  Dangerfield  of  Powhatan, — and  a 
glorious  day  it  was.  Previous  to  its  arrival,  Bare- 
bones  had  been  escorted,  with  a  dignity  becoming 
the  high  destinies  connected  with  his  speed  and 
bottom,  to  the  neighbourhood  of  the  racecourse. 
The  colonel  and  Mr.  Littlejohn  rode  on  either 
side,  while  Barebones,  richly  caparisoned  with  a 
gorgeous  blanket,  and  looking  through  a  pair  of 
holes,  like  an  old  gentleman  through  his  specta- 
cles, was  led  by  uncle  Pompey,  or  Pompey  Duck- 
legs,  as  he  was  most  irreverently  nicknamed  by 
the  young  ebonies,  on  the  score  of  a  pair  of  little 


WESTWARD    HO!  29 

bandy  drumsticks,  by  the  aid  of  which  he  wad- 
dled along  after  the  fashion  of  that  amphibious 
bird.  Pompey  claimed  and  received  this  post  of 
honour  by  virtue  of  having  once  had  the  felicity 
of  belonging  to  Lord  Dunmore,  the  last  royal  gov- 
ernor of  Old  Virginia.  He  considered  himself  as 
a  branch  of  the  aristocracy,  often  boasted  that  he 
was  one  of  the  few  gentlemen  left  in  the  Ancient 
Dominion,  and  never  failed  to  lay  all  the  blame  of 
bad  crops  on  the  revolution.  When  he  recollected 
that  Molly  Magpie  was  an  "  imported"  horse,  and 
a  lady  besides,  his  mind  misgave  him  sorely,  for 
he  could  scarcely  bring  himself  to  believe  it  pos- 
sible that  any  animal  foaled  on  this  side  the  At- 
lantic had  a  chance  of  success  against  one  so  high 
bred  and  highly  descended.  "  Dem  rebel  horse 
no  bottom,"  thought  Pompey.  Close  behind  Pom- 
pey the  Great  rode  Pompey  the  Little,  his  grand- 
son, to  whom  the  conduct  of  Barebones  was  to  be 
intrusted  in  the  coming  contest  between  the  houses 
of  Clarcmont  and  Powhatan.  He  was  dressed  in 
a  sky-blue  jacket,  red  cap,  and  pantaloons  of  the 
same  colour  ;  and  his  black  face  presented  a  beau- 
tiful contrast  to  the  ivory  teeth  which  he  ever  and 
anon  displayed  in  rows  the  brightest  beauty  in 
the  land  might  have  envied,  as  he  recalled  to 
mind  the  promise  of  his  master,  that  if  he  won 
the  race,  he  would  give  him  his  freedom  and  a 
hundred  a  year  for  life.  As  thus  they  walked 
their  horses  slowly  and  majestically  along,  Pom- 
pey the  Great  would  ever  and  anon  turn  round, 
shake  his  fist  at  Pompey  the  Little,  and  exclaim, 
"  You  young  racksal,  you  no  win  dis  here  race, 
you  disgrace  you  family — mind,  I  say  so." 

The  race  was  to  take  place  precisely  at  one 
o'clock,  but  long  before  the  hour  arrived  tliQ 


30  WESTWARD    HO  ! 

course  was  thronged  with  thousands  of  people  in 
carriages,  on  horseback,  and  on  toot,  of  all  grades, 
sizes,  ages,  and  colours.  The  day  was  charming, 
the  air  inspiring,  and  the  scene  beautiful  and  ani- 
mated beyond  description.  The  racecourse  was 
on  an  elevated  table-land,  which  commanded  a 
view  of  the  city  of  Richmond,  its  imposing1  capi- 
tol  (perhaps  the  finest  situated  building  in  the 
United  States),  the  turbulent  rapids  of  the  majes- 
tic river  foaming  and  pelting  its  way  among  the 
rocks  and  islands  fast  anchored  in  the  waves,  and 
afterwards  winding  its  quiet  course  at  a  distance 
among .  the  round  full-bosomed  hills,  presented  a 
scene  which  of  itself  might  occupy  the  attention 
for  hours.  But  the  animation  of  the  course  ren- 
dered a  long  abstraction  quite  impossible.  Gal- 
lant equipages  every  moment  arriving,  in  which 
the  pride  of  Virginia,  her  wives  and  daughters, 
displayed  their  fair  and  delicate  countenances, — 
full-blooded  horses  champing  the  bit  impatiently, 
and  pawing  the  ground  as  if  anxious  to  contest 
the  prize  of  the  day,  or  scouring  the  plain  in  all 
directions,  like  the  winged  Arabs  of  the  desert, 
communicated  indescribable  gayety  and  interest 
to  the  scene.  But  the  gayest  of  the  gay,  the  hap- 
piest of  the  happy,  the  noisiest  of  the  noisy,  were 
the  gentlemen  of  colour,  young  and  old,  to  whom 
this  was  a  holyday  sanctioned  by  long  prescrip- 
tion. Such  a  mortal  display  of  ivory  and  crooked 
legs,  such  ecstatic  gambols,  such  triumphant  buf- 
foonery, such  inspiring  shouts,  such  inimitable 
bursts  of  laughter  never  were  seen  or  heard  among 
the  grave,  reflecting  progeny  of  freedom  ;  and  the 
spectator  might  have  been  tempted  to  ask  himself, 
"  If  these  are  not  happy,  at  least  at  the  present 
moment,  where  is  happiness  to  be  found  T 


WESTWARD    HO!  31 

At  twelve  the  champions  appeared,  and  all  was 
hushed.  The  knowing  ones  followed  Barebones 
and  Molly  Magpie  around  the  course,  scanning 
them  with  a  keen  and  critical  eye,  and  making  up 
their  minds  to  bet  on  one  or  the  other.  The  col- 
oured rout  thronged  along  the  way,  looking  as 
wise  as  their  betters,  and  giving  their  opinions  in 
prophetic  whispers,  or  climbed  the  trees  and  fences 
to  witness  the  coming  trial.  >  Allen  of  Claremont 
and  Dangerfield  of  Powhatan  met  and  saluted 
each  other  with  the  dignified  courtesy  of  two 
knights  of  chivalry  on  the  eve  of  a  joust  in  honour 
of  their  respective  ladies  ;  and  it  was  singular  to 
observe  with  what  a  degree  of  interest  and  almost 
sublimity  the  ownership  of  two  such  famous 
horses  and  the  large  sums  at  stake  invested  these 
two  gallant  cavaliers.  The  crowd  followed  them 
whithersoever  they  went,  and  where  they  were 
was  the  centre  of  attraction. 

Tap — tap — tap  !  went  the  drum  for  the  second 
time, — the  judges  ascended  the  stand  of  judg- 
ment,— the  horses  were  brought  to  the  start- 
ing pole  champing  and  foaming,  as  if  partaking 
in  the  feelings  of  their  masters,  and  equally  anx- 
ious for  the  event  of  the  struggle.  For  our  part 
we  have  no  doubt  that  race  horses  are  perfectly 
aware  of  the  object  for  which  they  are  contesting, 
and  share  in  the  triumph  of  victory.  The  judges 
were  now  standing  with  stop  watches  counting 
the  minutes,  and  a  breathless  silence  preceded  the 
last  tap  of  the  drum.  It  was  a  scene  of  almost 
unequalled  excitement,  and  in  spite  of  all  that 
may  be  said  in  disparagement  of  the  sport,  we 
neither  blame  those  that  encourage,  nor  those 
who  partake  in  its  enjoyment,  with  due  mode- 
ration. 


32  WESTWARD    HO! 

Tap — tap — tap  !  went  the  drum  for  the  third 
time.  The  riders  were  mounted,  and  the  yellow 
cap  and  green  vest  of  Allen  of  Claremont  ap- 
peared side  by  side  with  the  red  cap  and  blue 
vest  of  Dangerfield  of  Powhatan.  As  Pompey 
the  Great  lifted  Pompey  the  Little  to  the  saddle,  he 
repeated  for  the  last  time, 

"  Now  you  dem  racksal,  you  no  win  dis  race, 
you  disgrace  to  you  family." 

The  signal  was  given,  and  the  two  noble 
animals  went  off  with  a  bound,  as  if  they  had 
suddenly  been  gifted  with  the  wings  of  the  wind. 
Now  Molly  Magpie,  being  the  lighter  and  weaker 
of  the  two,  gained  upon  Barebones,  as  they  came 
to  a  little  descending  ground ;  and  anon  Bare- 
bones  shot  ahead,  as  they  rose  upon  the  ascent. 
The  first  two  rounds  continued  thus  alternately 
in  favour  of  one  or  the  other,  the  little  red  cap 
and  the  yellow  appeared  perched  in  the  air,  and 
the  riders  seemed  hardly  to  touch  the  horses  they 
rode.  A  dead  and  breathless  silence  held  captive 
the  crowd,  and  Allen  and  Dangerfield  might  be 
seen,  each  on  a  little  eminence  in  the  centre  of 
the  field,  watching  the, struggle  with  a  steady 
countenance,  and  calm  determined  eye.  The 
third  round  Barebones  decidedly  took  the  lead : 
first  a  head,  then  a  neck,  then  a  whole  body  ap- 
peared in  advance,  and  by  the  time  they  arrived 
at  the  goal,  Barebones  was  computed  to  be  ten 
lengths  ahead  of  Molly  Magpie.  The  assembled 
multitude  shouted  "  Victory  !  Hurrah  for  Bare- 
bones  !"  and  as  for  old  Pompey,  he  scarcely  waited 
for  little  red  cap  to  be  weighed  after  the  heat, 
when  he  hugged  him  in  his  arms,  and  pronounced 
him  an  honour  to  his  family. 

The  second  heat  was  contested  with  equal  ob- 


WESTWARD   HO1.  33 

stinacy,  but  not  with  the  like  result ;  Molly  Mag- 
pie came  in  ahead  of  Barebones,  and  the  knowing 
ones  began  to  hedge.  Just  at  the  moment  of 
starting  for  the  third  and  last  heat,  Allen  of  Clare- 
mont  exclaimed,  in  a  loud  voice, 

"  Twenty  thousand  more  on  the  gray  mare  !" 

The  temptation  was  irresistible. 

"  Done  !"  cried  Dangerfield. 

"  Done  !"  cried  Allen  ;  and  at  that  instant  the 
horses  started  to  decide  the  fortunes  of  the  house 
of  Powhatan.  For  the  whole  of  the  three  rounds 
you  might  have  covered  them  both  with  a  blanket, 
and  nobody  knew  which  had  won,  until  the 
judges,  after  some  consultation,  decided  in  favour 
of  Molly  Magpie,  by  half  a  head.  The  same 
voices  that  had  shouted  and  huzzaed  for  Bare- 
bones  now  shouted  and  huzzaed  for  Molly  Mag- 
pie, such  is  the  instability  of  popular  applause ; 
and  it  is  recorded  that  Pompey  the  Great  fought 
that  day  six  pitched  battles  with  certain  gentle- 
men of  colour,  who  belonged  to  the  faction  of 
the  gray-mare.  Yet  for  all  this  he  could  not  help 
saying  to  himself,  "  Eh !  dem  I  spect  so ;  dem 
rumpublican  horse  he  no  hold  candle  to  tudder." 

Dangerfield  dined  with  the  sporting  club; 
toasted  the  winning  horse,  laughed  his  laugh,  joked 
his  joke,  and  received  the  compliments  of  many 
a  sympathizing  cavalier  on  the  speed  and  bottom 
of  Barebones,  the  conqueror  of  a  hundred  fields, 
with  an  air  of  careless  self  possession,  that  might 
have  aspired  to  the  honours  of  philosophy  had 
the  occasion  been  more  worthy.  He  felt  that  he 
was  a  ruined  man,  but  he  was  determined  no  one 
should  penetrate  his  feelings,  most  especially 
Allen  of  Claremont. 


34  WESTWARD   HO! 

"  If  it  is  inconvenient  to  yon,  colonel,"  said 
Allen. 

"O,  not  in  the  least,"  said  Dangerfield ;  and  the 
debt  was  paid  on  the  spot. 

'•Will  yon  sell  Barebones  ?" 

"  No.  sir,"  replied  the  other,  and  abruptly  turned 
away. 

The  next  morning  the  procession  which  set 
out  with  such  exulting  anticipations,  returned 
home  downcast  and  dejected,  with  the  exception 
of  the  colonel,  who  was  determined  to  present  a 
dignified  front  to  Mrs.  Dangerfield.  Mr.  Little- 
John,  who  had  not  uttered  a  single  word  since 
the  loss  of  the  race,  rode  carelessly  on,  scarcely 
holding  his  bridle,  which  hung  loosely  on  his 
horse's  mane,  and  now  and  then  casting  his  eye 
with  a  look  of  commiseration  on  his  benefactor  : 
old  Pompey  did  nothing  but  shake  his  fist  at  little 
Pompey ;  and  even  Barebones  seemed  conscious 
of  his  defeat,  for  he  slouched  along  with  his  head 
depressed,  and  had  hardly  spirit  to  brush  away 
the  flies  with  his  tail. 


WESTWARD   HO!  35 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A  virtuous  woman  is  a  crown  to  her  husband. 

IP  we  do  not  mistake  it  was  Cardinal  Richelieu 
who  once  boasted  that  he  could  make  treason  or 
heresy  out  of  any  three  words  in  any  language  ; 
such  is  the  uncertainty  of  speech,  and  the  inge- 
nuity of  man  in  misinterpreting  it !  One  might 
suppose  that  the  simple  line  placed  at  the  head  of 
this  chapter  could  not  possibly  have  afforded  any 
sport  to  the  commentators  :  and  yet  it  is  not  so. 
Some  of  these  have  interpreted  it  as  having  allu- 
sion to  a  kingly  crown,  which  in  these  troubled 
days  is  in  truth  little  else  than  a  crown  of  thorns. 
Others,  who  doubtless  belonged  to  the  ancient,  if 
not  very  honourable  order  of  old  bachelors,  have 
ignorantly  presumed  that  the  crown  here  meant 
is  that  piece  of  silver  coin  bearing  on  its  face  the 
hooked  nose  of  Louis  of  France,  and  formerly 
passing  current  in  these  States  at  eight  and  ten- 
pence,  and  thus  attempted  to  degrade  the  dignity 
of  the  sex  down  to.  that  ignoble  standard.  But 
l>eshrew  their  hearts,  we  say, — meaning  thereby, 
may  they  marry  a  shrew,  and  repent  this  atro- 
cious blasphemy,  in  smoky  chimneys,  and  curtain 
lectures.  Who  that  hath  ever  known  the  blessing 
of  a  modest,  tender,  cheerful,  sensible  helpmate 
and  companion,  amid  the  flowers  of  youth,  the 
fruits  of  manhood,  and  the  yellow  leaves  of  de- 
clining age,  but  will  recognise  that  the  crown 
alluded  to  by  the  inspired  writer  is  the  crown  of 
happiness,  and  not  the  thorny  bauble  for  which 


36  WESTWARD   HO! 

i 

men  wade  tnrough  oceans  of  blood,  nor  the  shin- 
ing temptation  which  is  so  often  the  price  of 
honour,  integrity,  and  a  quiet  conscience. 

The  rumour  of  the  defeat  and  discomfiture  of 
Barebones  reached  Mrs.  Dangerfield  the  eve- 
ning of  the  day  on  which  it  happened.  Nobody 
knew  how  it  came,  or  who  brought  the  news,  for 
it  may  be  said  of  Rumour,  that,  like  the  pesti- 
lence, she  walketh  in  darkness  with  the  speed  of 
thought  or  anticipation,  outstrips  the  swiftest  loco- 
motive, and  leaves  all  human  conveyances  be- 
hind. We  have  sometimes  been  almost  tempted 
to  believe  she  possessed  the  spirit  of  prophecy, 
and  foretold  the  future,  rather  than  recorded  tlie 
past. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  when  Colonel  Dangerfield, 
with  all  the  coolness  of  desperation,  apprized  his 
wife  of  the  loss  of  the  race  and  the  ruin  of  his 
fortune,  she  received  the  information  without  sur- 
prise or  emotion.  The  preceding  night  she  had 
given  to  her  two  children  the  tears  and  sorrows 
of  a  tender  mother ;  this  morning  she  gave  her 
husband  the  advice  and  consolation  of  a  faith- 
ful wife.  She  neither  complained  nor  reproached, 
but  looking  the  present  calmly  in  the  face,  asked 
of  the  colonel  a  full  and  fair  statement  of  his 
affairs. 

"  I  am  a  ruined  man,"  said  he,  firmly,  "  it  is 
utterly  impossible  to  keep  up  the  establishment 
any  longer." 

"Well,  then  we  must  retrench,  my  dear." 

"  Retrenchment  will  not  do ;  it  is  too  late  now. 
I  would  I  had  taken  your  advice  in  time." 

"  Well,  never  mind  that  now.  If  we  cannot 
live  in  our  accustomed  home,  we  must  find  one 
elsewhere,  There  is  plenty  of  room  in  this  new 


WESTWARD   HO!  37 

world  of  ours,  and  wherever  we  are  together  there 
will  be  our  home." 

"  For  God's  sake,  Cornelia,  scold  me  a  little, 
can't  you?"  exclaimed  Dangerfield,  quite  over- 
come. "  I  have  beggared  you  and  the  children, 
and  yet  you  forgive  me  !  Call  me  fool,  idiot, 
madman,  any  thing  but  villain,  and  I  shall  feel 
somewhat  relieved.  Come,  scold,  scold,  I  say; 
curse  me  for  destroying  your  happiness  and  that 
of  our  children." 

"You  have  not  destroyed  our  happiness,"  replied 
Mrs.  Dangerfield ;  "  this"  is  the  talk  of  custom, 
the  folly  of  inexperience,  which  thinks  it  cannot 
exist  except  in  one  round  of  the  same  modes  and 
enjoyments.  I,  sir,  as  you  well  know,  passed  the 
early  part  of  my  life  in  poverty,  with  a  parent 
whose  estate  was  confiscated  and  name  dishon- 
oured for  his  attachment  to  a  worthless  master. 
From  this  situation  you  chose  me,  and  placed  me 
in  the  lap  of  affluence,  where  every  wish  has  been 
gratified.  Yet  I  cannot  but  confess  that,  saving 
the  enjoyments  of  a  wife  and  a  mother,  I  am  not, 
I  never  was,  happier  than  in  the  midst  of  pov- 
erty. My  dear  Cuthbert,  this  change  of  fortune 
will  soon  teach  you  how  little,  how  very  little, 
the  blessings  of  life  depend  on  mere  situation. 
Guilt  and  remorse  are  the  only  lasting  sources  of 
misery." 

"  And  am  I  not  guilty  ?  and  will  not  my  future 
life  be  one  of  bitter  compunction  ?" 

"  No,  not  guilty,  only  imprudent — the  impru- 
dence of  inexperience  and  want  of  thought.  Do 
not  quarrel  with  the  lessons  of  experience,"  added 
she,  with  a  smile ;  "  you  will  be  wiser  in  future." 

"  Yes,  I  shall  shujt  the  door  when  the  steed  is 
stol 


88  WESTWARD  HO! 

"  I  wish,  my  dear,  Barebones  had  been  stolen 
six  months  ago." 

"  Nay,  now,  Cornelia,  don't  blame  poor  Bare  • 
bones, — now,  don't,  I  beg  of  you.  Damme  if  he 
isn't  the  finest  creature  in  Virginia,  and  I  have  a 
great  mind  to  match  him  against  Allen  of  Clare- 
mont  for  the  next  spring  meeting." 

"  O,  colonel !  colonel !  what's  bred  in  the  bone 
— but  I  don't  abuse  Barebones,  and  I  am  sure  he 
is  the  best  horse  in  Virginia;  but  I  hope  you 
won't  match  him  against  Molly  Magpie  again." 

"  What  a  fool  I  am  ! — what  an  egregious  ass  !" 
cried  the  colonel,  smiting  his  forehead,  and  strid- 
ing about  the  room. 

By  degrees  Mrs.  Dangerfield  drew  her  husband 
into  a  detail  of  the  state  of  his  affairs,  at  least  so 
far  as  he  understood  them.  The  truth  is,  how- 
ever, he  knew  no  more  about  the  matter  than 
that  paragon  of  ignorance,  "the  man  in  the  moon." 
He  made  himself  out  to  be  over  head  and  ears  in 
debt,  and  that  if  he  turned  his  plantation  and 
slaves  into  gold,  they  would  not  pay  half  of  what 
lie  owed.  Mrs.  Dangerfield  was  astonished,  and 
almost  lost  her  self-possession.  She  maintained 
it  to  be  impossible;  the  colonel  insisted  it  was 
possible ;  and  the  result  of  the  argument  was  a 
determination  to  send  for  the  Scotch  merchant  to 
elucidate  the  matter.  I 

i  The  conference  had  scarcely  ended  when  a  hor- 
rible outcry  and  commotion  was  heard  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  stables,  which  were  at  the  distance  of 
about  a  furlong  from  the  house,  and  Mrs.  Danger- 
field  begged  the  colonel  to  go  and  see  what  was  the 
matter.  Some  husbands  would  have  declined, 
merely  because  they  consider  obliging  their  wives 
a«  a  proof  of  being  henpecked ;  but  the  eolonel  was 


WESTWARD  HO!  39 

a  little  crestfallen  at  the  catastrophe  of  Barebones 
and  the  state  of  his  affairs,  and  obeyed  like  a  dis- 
creet person.  Arriving  on  the  premises,  he  beheld 
Pompey  the  Little  tied  incontinently  to  a  beam, 
and  Pompey  the  Great  (otherwise  called  Pompey 
Ducklegs)  belabouring  him  with  a  cowskin  so  lus- 
tily, that  if  ever  man  or  boy  had  a  good  excuse 
for  roaring  like  ten  thousand  bulls  o?  Bashan,  it 
was  that  luckless  composition  of  ebony.  Between 
every  stroke,  which  was  followed  by  a  roar,  the 
indignant  Ducklegs  would  exclaim  : — 

"You  young  racksal — you  lose  he  race,  eli ! 
— (whack  !) — You  no  beat  Molly  Magpie,  eh  ! — 
(whack!) — You  no  be  free  nigger, eh!— (whack!) 
— You  no  get  hundred  a  year,  eh  ! — (whack  i) — 
You  disgrace  you  family,  you  young  racksal,  eh ! 
—(whack!  whack!  whack,!)" 

"Pomp,"  cried  the  colonel,  "how  dare  you 
strike  any  of  my  slaves  without  my  permission  ?" 

"  He  disgrace  he  family,  massa."  * 

"  Pshaw !  untie  the  poor  fellow ;  he  did  his 
best — it  was  not  his  fault  that  Barebones  lost. 
Untie  him,  I  say,  and  never  take  such  a  liberty 
again,  sir." 

"  Huh ! — libbety !"  grumbled  Pompey  Ducklegs, 
as  he  obeyed  his  master,  &  debbil !  an't  he  old  nig- 
ger's own  flesh  and  blood,  dough  he  be  a  disgrace 
to  he  family  P 


40  WESTWARD   HO! 


CHAPTER  V. 

Showing  that  a  Gentleman  will  understand  his  affairs 
the  better  for  a  little  Arithmetic. 

HONOUR  and  praise  to  the  illustrious  Thomas 
Dilworth,  who  whilom,  in  the  days  of  our  flagel- 
lation, used  to  figure  in  front  of  Spelling  Book 
and  "Schoolmaster's  Assistant"  dire,  with  quill 
behind  his  ear,  in  powdered  wig,  and  most  redun- 
dant chitterling.     True  it  is,  that  the  march  of 
improvement  in  this  stupendous  age  of  self-sharp- 
ening pencils,  silver  forks,  antibilious  pills,  Frank- 
lin gridirons,  artificial  teeth,  artificial  flowers,  arti- 
ficial women,  and  other  stupendous  improvements, 
— true  it  is,  that  this  illustrious  man  hath  been  el- 
bowed from  the  hallowed  precincts  of  practical  and 
impracticable  schools — we  beg  pardon,  institutes — 
wherein  A,  B,  C  is  taught  classically,  and  pothooks 
and  hangers  perpetrated  according  to  the  true 
principles  of  trigonometry, — true  it  is,  that  his 
Spelling  Book  hath  been  superseded  by  millions 
of  new  and  improved  systems  invented  by  ambi- 
tious pedagogues  for  the  purpose  of  picking  the 
pockets  of  inexperienced  parents,  and  thus  bene- 
fiting the   rising  generation, — that  his  School- 
master's Assistant  hath  given  place  to  the  same 
thing  with  a  different,  yea,  a  more  high-sounding 
name,  and  that  the  titlepage  consecrated  by  his 
powdered  pate  and  sagacious  phiz,  wherein  shone 
the  might  of  birch,  hath  been  usurped  by  the  effi- 
gies of  other  pretenders  who  learned  figures  and 


WESTWARD   HO!  41 

spelling  of  the  immortal  gods.  "  True  it  is,  and 
pity  'tis  'tis  true :"  yet  if  we  desert  thee  for  these 
modern  upstarts,  O  most  illustrious  Thomas !  may 
we  forget  our  multiplication  table,  lose  the  faculty 
of  calculating  compound  interest  on  the  money 
we  lend  to  our  dear  friends,  and  all  our  practical 
knowledge  of  subtraction  be  preserved  by  the  ne- 
cessity of  estimating  the  diminution  of  our  bank 
stock.  Those  only  whose  knowledge  of  arithme- 
tic will  enable  them  to  count  the  innumerable 
flagellations  we  received  under  the  auspices  of  the 
illustrious  Dilworth  ere  we  could  be  brought  to 
comprehend  the  virtue  of  a  common  denominator, 
can  estimate  the  value  pf  this  disinterested  tribute 
to  his  memory. 

The  summons  despatched  to  the  Scotch  n^er- 
chant  was  in  due  time  followed  by  the  appearance 
of  that  exceedingly  methodical  person, -who  was 
animated,  governed,  and  impelled,  as  it  were,  by 
the  five  rules  of  arithmetic.  He  reasoned  like 
a  member  of  congress,  in  figures,  and  drew  his 
conclusions  from  profit  and  loss.  It  was  equally 
against  his  conscience  to  make  a  losing  bar- 
gain as  to  take  an  undue  advantage  for  the 
purposes  of  gain.  Dangerfield,  who  had  no 
great  good-will  towards  him  (for  no  man  loves 
his  creditor),  used  to  tell  a  story  of  Mr.  Mac- 
tabb,  which,  whether  true  or  not,  was  somewhat 
in  character.  A  friend,  it  seems,  proposed  to  him 
a  shipment  of  tobacco  to  Ireland,  where  its  intro- 
duction was  either  prohibited  or  burdened  with 
enormous  duties,  observing,  at  the  same  time,  he 
doubted  whether  it  would  be  quite  right.  Mao- 
tabb  took  out  his  pencil,  and  entered  upon  a  long 
calculation,  at  the  end  of  which  he  exclaimeoj 
"  Right,  sir,  right,  by  a  balance  of  five  thousand 


42  WESTWARD   HO! 

pounds. "  He  was,  in  short,  a  lover  of  money ; 
yet,  such  are  the  strange  inconsistencies  of  even 
the  most  consummate  misers,  that  though  they 
\vill  starve  themselves,  they  sometimes  exhibit 
the  most  extraordinary  traits  of  generosity.  Like 
pent-up  waters,  it  would  seem,  when  the  barrier 
is  once  broken  through,  they  flow  in  a  torrent. 
It  was  thus  with  Mactabb,  who  on  more  than  one 
occasion  had  conducted  himself  with  a  delicate 
liberality  which  seemed  little  in  accord  with  his 
general  character. 

"  Can  you  tell  me  how  much  I  owe  you,  Mr. 
Mactabb?"  asked  Colonel  Dangerfield,  almost 
afraid  to  hear  the  answer. 

Mactabb  took  out  his  memorandum-book,  where 
he  had  calculated  the  amount  to  a  fraction.  It 
was  somewhat  more  than  seventy-five  thousand 
pounds,  Virginia  currency. 

"No  more?"  asked  the  colonel,  drawing  his 
breath  freely,  and  rubbing  his  hands. 

Mactabb  lifted  his  specs  from  before  his  eyes, 
and  stared  at  him  in  astonishment. 
-    "No  more,  Colonel  Dangerfield!   why,  how 
much  did  you  think  it  was  ?" 
f.    "Why,  the  truth  is,  sir,  I  am  not  good  at  calcu- 
lations ;  and  besides,  I  don't  know  how  it  is,  but 
I  either  kept  no  account  of  your  advances,  or  I 
have  mislaid  it.    I  thought  I  owed  you  almost 
twice  that  sum." 

"  Here  is  a  phenomenon  !"  thought  Mactabb ; 
"  the  first  man  I  ever  met  with  who  overrated  his 
debts."  After  a  little  hesitation,  the  colonel  ad- 
dressed him  again, — 

"  Mr.  Mactabb,  you  have  told  me  how  much  I 
owe  you ;  I  wish  you  wou)4  go  a  little  farther, 
and  tell  me  the  amount  of  my  debts  to  other 
people," 


WESTWARD   HO!  43 

Mactabb  was  more  astonished  than  ever; 
though  he  had  been  accustomed  to  dealing  with 
Virginia  planters,  he  never  met  with  exactly  such 
a  one  before. 

"  That,  colonel,  is  out  of  my  power  unless  you 
will  show  me  your  accounts,  your  day-book,  jour- 
nal, leger,  statement  of  bills,  notes,  bonds,  accept- 
ances, purchases,  &c.  &c.  &c." 

"  My  what  ?"  exclaimed  the  colonel,  utterly  con- 
founded ;  "  I  never  kept  an  account  in  my  life." 

"  No  !"  exclaimed  Mactabb,  more  astonished 
than  the  colonel :  "  I  don't  wonder — "  and  here  he 
checked  himself. 

"  Mr.  Mactabb,"  said  Colonel  Dangerfield,  in  a 
husky  tone,  "  it  is  useless  to  look  back  except  with 
a  view  to  the  future.  What  is  done,  is  done.  I 
sent  for  you  to  learn  the  amount  of  your  claims 
upon  me,  and  to  say  that  you  are  at  perfect  lib- 
erty to  act  on  the  deed  of  trust  as  soon  as  you 
please.  I  can  never  repay  you,  and  the  estate 
must  be  sold." 

«  Sold !» 

«  Yes— sold." 

"  Colonel  Dangerfield,"  said  the  Scotsman,  "in- 
dulge me  a  few  moments.  Is  there  no  way  of 
avoiding  this  painful  sacrifice  ?  I  am  a  man  of 
family  myself,  sir  ;  my  father  has  an  estate  in  the 
highlands  of  Scotland,  which,  barren  as  it  is, 
would  break  his  old  heart  to  part  with.  Will  you 
— to  bring  the  matter  to  a  close — will  you  place 
your  affairs  in  my  hands,  and  await  the  result  of 
my  inquiries  and  arrangements  ?" 

"  It  is  the  very  thing  I  wish ;  for  I  will  acknow- 
ledge myself  utterly  incapacitated  for  the  task."  > 

After  gaining  all  the  information  possible  from 
Colonel  Dangerfield  concerning  the  state  of  his 
affairs  which  was  very  little,  Mactabb  departed  on 


44  WESTWARD    HO! 

his  errand.  There  is  not  much  difficulty  in  find- 
ing out  creditors,  and  in  less  than  a  month  he  re- 
turned with  tlie  requisite  information.  There 
Avere  a  number  of  considerable  demands,  but  Mac- 
tabb  was  the  principal  creditor.  Again  the  colo- 
nel was  surprised  at  the  result,  and  again  was  the 
honest  Scot  astonished  at  finding  a  man  who  did 
not  owe  half  as  much  as  he  expected. 

"  Let  us  see/'  said  Mactabb ;  "  your  estate  con- 
tains— how  many  acres  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  exactly,  but  I  believe  about  four- 
teen thousand." 

"  And  the  amount  of  your  income  is — " 

"  I  can't  say  how  much." 

"  And  the  number  of  slaves — " 

"  Don't  know — my  overseer  can  tell." 

"  Perhaps  we  had  better  call  him  in ;"  and  the 
overseer  was  accordingly  summoned.  After  re- 
ceiving the  necessary  Information,  and  the  two 
gentlemen  being  left  alone,  Mactabb  resumed  the 
conversation. 

"  Well,  Colonel  Dangerfield,  after  all,  I  don't  see 
that  your  affairs  are  so  desperate.  A  few  years 
of  saving  will  set  all  right  again." 

"  But  I  don't  know  how  to  save." 

"  O,  you  will  soon  learn ;  necessity  is — "  and 
here  he  checked  himself. 

"  No,  I  will  be  sincere  with  you,  Mr.  Mactabb ; 
if  I  continue  here  I  must  live  as  I  have  been  ac- 
customed to  live.  I  must  accept  invitations,  and 
give  them ;  I  must  have  my  equipages,  my  pack 
of  hounds,  my  blood  horses,  and  I  must  keep  open 
house.  No,  if  I  cannot  hold  up  my  head  as  I  was 
wont,  I  am  determined  to  quit  this  part  of  the 
country  for  ever.  Besides,  I  shall  be  pestered  for 
debts  I  cannot  pay" 


WESTWARD   HO!  45 

"  Let  me  be  your  sole  creditor,  and  I  will  wait 
your  time." 

"  You  ?  why,  I  thought  you — "  and  the  colonel 
stammered  and  stopped. 

"  I  know  what  you  thought  me, — a  miserly  old 
hunks;-  and,  the  Lord  forgive  me  !  so  I  am,  I  be- 
lieve, sometimes :  the  instinct  of  money-getting 
frequently  overpowers  the  inward  man  ;  but  I  as- 
sure you,  colonel,  I  am  at  this  moment  inclined 
to  do  you  a  service." 

"  I  thank  you,  -Mactabb,"  replied  Dangerfield, 
somewhat  suspicious  of  a  design  ;  "  but  I  fear  it 
is  out  of  your  power.  The  estate  must  and  shall 
be  sold  publicly,  if  no  private  purchaser  can  be 
found." 

"  It  will  then  be  sacrificed." 

"  I  cannot  help  it.  Perhaps  you  will  take  it  off 
my  hands,  and  pay  yourself,  with  the  other  cred- 
itors?" 9  j 

Mactabb  felt  the  old  money-getting  devil  tug- 
ging at  his  elbow,  and  whispering  in  his  ear  to 
accept  the  offer.  For  a  few  moments  he  listened 
to  the  tempter,  and  felt  himself  sorely  beset  by  his 
insinuations.  But  he  said  to  himself,  "  Get  thee 
behind  me,  Satan  ;"  and  the  cowardly  imp  obeyed. 

"  What  say  you,  sir,"  resumed  Dangerfield,  with 
a  desperate  vivacity,  "  will  you  take  all  and  pay 
all  ?" 

«  No,  I'll  be  d— d  if  I  do !"  Mactabb  never 
swore  except  when  he  was  going  to  do  a  generous 
action. 

"I  thought  so,"  observed  the  colonel,  indig- 
nantly ;  "  you  expect  to  make  a  better  bargain  at 
a  public  sale." 

"  There  you  thought  wrong,  Colonel  Danger- 
field.  I  expect  to  make  a  better  bargain  in  pri- 


46  WESTWARD   HO ! 

rate  for  you ;  please  to  attend  to  me.  I  still  think 
that  the  better  way  would  be  to  keep  your  estate, 
and  by  an  inflexible  course  of  economy — [the 
colonel  shook  his  head] — well,  then,  to  the  other 
point ;  you  must  make  the  best  sale  you  can — " 

"  I  know  nothing  about  bargains." 

"  More  is  the  pity.  Colonel  Dangerfield ;  a  man 
ignorant  of  bargaining  is  always  at  the  mercy  of 
rogues." 

"  And  a  man  acquainted  with  it  is  very  often  a 
rogue  himself." 

"  Amen — tit  for  tat  is  all  fair.  But  to  the  point 
once  more.  In  few  words,  and  in  all  sincerity,  I 
will  take  your  estate." 

"  Hum  !"  quoth  the  colonel,  dryly. 

"  I  will  pay  your  debts." 

"  Hum  !"  still  more  dryly. 

"  I  will  give  you  a  discharge  in  full." 

'l  Hum  !"  as  dry  as  tinder ;  "  and  so  the  matter 
is  settled  at  last." 

"  Not  quite ;  there  is  one  condition  yet  to  be 
complied  with ;  you  must — " 

"What  a  cursed  old  skinflint!"  thought  the 
colonel. 

"  You  must  bind  yourself,  your  heirs,  execu 
tors,  and  assigns  to  receive  from  me  the  just  and 
full  sum  of  five  thousand  pounds,  Virginia  cur- 
rency, as  a  balance  due  you  in  the  settlement 
of  this  business." 

"  The  devil !"  exclaimed  the  colonel,  astonished. 

"  Do  you  consent,  Colonel  Dangerfield  ?" 

"  Are  you  in  earnest,  Mr.  Mactabb  T 

"  I  am  always  in  earnest  when  I  make  a  bar- 
gain." 

"Well,  then,  give  me  your  hand,  sir;  and 
damme  if  you  are  not  the  prince  of  tobacco  mcr- 


WESTWARD   HO!  47 

chants.     You  are  a  right  generous  fellow ;  and 
I'll  make  you  a  present  of  Barebones." 

"  O,  no,  no,  colonel,  don't  tempt  me  to  lose  my 
money  on  a  broken-down  horse." 

"  A  broken-down  horse,  sir  !  Do  you  mean  to 
insult  me  by  insinuating  that  Barebones  is  broke 
down,  or  that  I  would  give  him  to  you  if  he  was 
not  at  this  moment  able  to  beat  any  horse,  mare, 
or  gelding  in  Virginia  ?" 

"  Except  Molly  Magpie. 

"  No,  sir,"  cried  the  colonel,  in  a  rage,  "  not  ex  • 
cepting  Molly  Magpie.  I'll  tell  you  what,  'Mr. 
Mactabb,  yon  may  be  a  judge  of  tobacco,  but 
you  know  no  more  of  a  horse  than  old  Allen  of 
Claremont ;  and  more  than  that,  sir,  please  to  un 
derstand  I'm  off  with  my  agreement.  You  shan't 
have  my  estate  ;  you  shan't  pay  my  debts ;  and 
damme  if  I  accept  your  five  thousand  pounds. — 
Barebones  broke  down,  indeed !" 

It  was  with  some  difficulty  Mactabb  allayed  the 
wrath  of  the  colonel.  "  A  sailor  is  all  one  as  a 
piece  of  his  ship,"  as  the  old  song  says,  and  a  Vir 
ginian  is  all  one  as  a  piece  of  his  horse.  He  re- 
alizes the  fable  of  the  centaurs — he  will  have  a 
horse  if  he  has  nothing  else ;  and  if  he  cannot 
procure  a  pair  of  spurs,  he  will  fasten  a  single  one 
to  his  right  heel,  justly  considering  that  if  you 
prick  one  side  of  a  horse  along,  the  other  will  fol- 
low of  course.  Mactabb  finally  pacified  the  colo- 
nel by  some  adroit  allusions  to  the  exploits  of 
Barebones,  and  the  matter  was  amicably  settled. 
The  colonel  consented  to  have  his  debts  paid,  and 
to  receive  the  five  thousand  pounds. 

"After  all  I  have  got  a  great  bargain,"  said 
Mactabb,  "if  I  only  knew  as  much  about  the 
cultivation  of  tobacco  af  of  it*  quality  and 
value," 


48  *      WESTWARD   HO! 

"  And  I  have  made  a  good  bargain  too,"  said 
the  colonel,  with  a  sigh,  "  if  I  only  knew  as  well 
how  to  make,  as  I  do  about  making  away  with 
money." 

As  the  winter  was  now  at  hand,  it  was  settled 
that  Colonel  Dangerfield  should  remain  where  he 
was  until  spring ;  and  after  discussing  a  bottle  of 
Madeira  from  a  vintage  which  I  believe  preceded 
the  discovery  of  that  island,  Mactabb  departed  for 
his  residence  in  the  city  of  Richmond,  the  abode 
of  hospitable  men  and  bonny  lasses.  Here  he  set 
about  arranging  the  affairs  of  Colonel  Dangerfield 
with  that  indefatigable  zeal  which  marked  his 
character.  Next  to  making  money  it  was  his 
greatest  pleasure  to  pay  it  where  it  was  honestly 
due,  though  we  are  obliged  to  confess  that,  on 
this  occasion,  tradition  says  he  squeezed  some  of 
the  colonel's  creditors  at  such  a  horrible  rate,  that 
they  did  not  recover  their  breath  for  a  week  after- 
wards. Among  the  greatest  sufferers  was  an  hon- 
est painstaking  cobbler,  who  whilom  was  wont 
to  officiate  for  the  dingy  vassals  of  Powhatan, 
from  whose  bill  he  victoriously  deducted  sixpence 
in  the  matter  of  a  pair  of  heeltaps. 


WESTWARD  HOl  49 


CHAPTER  VI. 

* 

Westward  Ho ! 

COLONEL  DANGERPIELD  felt  happier  than  he 
had  been  for  many  a  day,  after  concluding  the 
arrangement  with  Mactabb.  He  was  relieved 
from  the  load  of  debt, — the  heaviest  load,  except 
that  of  sin,  that  ever  fell  on  the  shoulders  of  man- 
kind. Besides  this,  the  thing  was  settled ;  and 
when  that  is  the  case  none  but  the  weaker  minded 
shrink  from  the  crisis,  be  it  what  it  may.  In  the 
true  spirit  of  conjugal  confidence,  the  colonel 
sought  his  wife  to  communicate  with  her  about 
the  best  mode  of  settling  the  affair — after  it  was 
all  settled.  Mrs.  Dangerfield  could  not  help  smil- 
ing at  this  complimentary  appeal :  "  better  late 
than  never,"  she  thought ;  and  kindly  expressed 
her  satisfaction  that  the  thing  was  no  worse. 

"  But  we  must  leave  this  next  spring,  and  whi- 
ther shall  we  go  ?"  said  she. 

"  O,  there  is  time  enough  to  think  of  that — no 
use  in  troubling  ourselves  before  it  is  necessary. 
The  spring  will  soon  come,  Cornelia.'5 

"  Too  soon,"  thought  Mrs.  Dangerfield,  and  her 
naturally  sweet  voice  softened  into  the  most 
touching  pathos.  "  The  spring  will  soon  come, 
the  birds  in  our  copses  will  soon  begin  to  sing, 
the  flowers  in  our  garden  soon  begin  to  bloom,  the 
meadows  will  be  green  before  we  are  aware,  and 
— and — we  must  be  getting  ready  to  go  some- 
where." 

VOL,  I,- 


50  WESTWARD   Ho! 

"  Well,  well,  don't  think  of  it,  Cornelia,"-— and 
he  came  and  took  her  hand,  and  squeezed  it  affec- 
tionately, as  we  are  living  souls  ! — "  don't  think 
of  it,  and  forget  what  a  brute  I  have  been." 

Mrs.  Dangerfield — we  are  almost  afraid  to  re- 
cord it ;  it  is  so  incredible  that  we  are  sure  the 
reader,  if  he  or  she  hath  the  least  experience  in 
the  world,  will  refuse  to  credit  the  whole  of  this 
veritable  history,  on  the  score  of  such  an  outrage 
i)ii  probability— Mrs.  Dangerfield  threw  her  arms 
about  his  neck,  kissed  him,  and,  though  she  did 
not  swear  he  was  no  brute,  thought  so  from  the 
bottom  of  her  heart ;  and  yet  the  man  was  her 
husband ! 

February  now  came,  in  this  mellow  clime  the 
nerald  of  brighter  days  and  warmer  sunshine.  The 
Jttle  birds,  that  come  from  heaven  knows  where, 
all  at  once  appeared,  and  twittered  among  the 
alders  that  skirted  the  silent  rivulets,  which,  unseen 
as  they  were  unheard,  were  only  betrayed  in  their 
quiet  course  by  the  fresh  green  grass  that  marked 
their  meanderings  ;  the  frogs,  whose  music,  harsh 
as  it  is,  is  welcome  at  such  a  time,  as  the  sure  pre- 
cursor of  the  genial  season,  piped  in  the  ponds 
the  violets  just  began  to  peer  above  the  ground  in 
pale-blue  clusters ;  the  dark-brown  of  the  woods 
gradually  changed  to  an  almost  imperceptible 
purple ;  the  wild  geese  were  heard  gabbling  their 
course  invisible  in  the  air,  from  the  south  to  the 
north;  and  all  nature,  animate  and  inanimate, 
began  to  partake  in  the  joyous  influence  of  the 
season ; — all  except  the  family  of  Colonel  Dan- 
gerfield, to  whom  the  approach  of  spring  was  the 
signal  of  exile. 

"  What  can  have  become  of  Mactabb,  I  won- 
der ?"  observed  the  colonel  to  his  wife  one  mild 


WESTWARD   HO!  51 

evening,  as  they  sat  at  the  window  watching  the 
quiet  course  of  the  river  that  flowed  at  a  little  dis- 
tance ;  "  he  ought  to  be  here  before  this." 

"  From  what  you  have  told  me  of  Mr.  Mac- 
tabb, I  am  inclined  to  think  he  won't  come  till  you 
send  for  him.  His  visit  would  look  as  if  he  came 
to  hurry  us  away." 

"  True ;  I  had  forgot  that.  I  must  write  to 
him." 

Accordingly  he  wrote  to  Mactabb  to  prepare  all 
the  necessary  documents,  and  bring  them  as  early 
as  possible.  He  came  in  a  few  days,  produced 
his  own  discharge  and  those  of  all  the  creditors, 
and  the  estate  of  Powhatan  was  consigned  to  him 
for  ever.  The  hand  of  Colonel  Dangerfield  trem- 
bled a  little  as  he  signed  his  name  ;  but  that  of 
his  wife,  though  white  and  delicate  as  a  snow- 
drop, was  steady  as  the  oak  that  defies  the  storm. 
A  dead  silence  succeeded  this  painful  ceremony. 
It  was  at  length  broken  by  Mactabb,  who,  after 
fumbling  in  his  pocket  some  time,  produced  a 
paper  which  he  handed  to  the  colonel,  saying, 

"  Here  is  the  balance  due  on — plague  take  it, 
what  a  cough  I've  got — somehow  I  always  catch 
cold  in  this  confounded  month  of  "February. 
Here  is  a  draft  for  five  thousand  pounds,  and — 

and  may  heaven  prosper  you  with  it." 

The  colonel  received  it  with  a  silent  bow,  and 

then  another  pause  ensued.    Again  it  was  broken 

by  Mactabb. 

"  D — n  it,  I  will — yes,  I  will — I  have  a  right, 

and  I  will,"  mumbled  he,  as  it  were  to  himself; 

"  Colonel  Dangerfield — hem — will  you  permit — 

will  you  forgive  me  if  I  ask  what  are  your  plans 

for  the  future  ?" 


62  WESTWARD  HO! 

"  Good  God  !  that's  true  ;  we  have  settled  no- 
thing as  yet." 

"  Understand  me,  colonel,  I  do  not  wish  to 
hurry  you,  this  house  and  this  estate  are  yours, 
to  remain  as  long  as  you  please,  the  longer  the 
better.  But  possibly  I  may  aid  you  with  my  ad- 
vice ;  I  am  a  man  of  business,  you  know,  and 
my  experience  is  heartily  at  your  service." 

"  There  is  no  .occasion,  sir,"  replied  Dangerfield, 
coldly,  and  rather  haughtily,  for  this  was  the  first 
time  of  being  reminded  that  he  was  no  longer  in 
his  own  house. 

"  But  there  is  occasion,  my  dear,'5  said  Mrs. 
Dangerfield,  good-humouredly,  "  and  we  shall  be 
thankful  for  Mr.  Mactabb's  advice." 

"  Well,  then,  there  are  two  ways  of  retrieving 
our  fortunes,  one  by  industry  and  economy,  the 
other  by  enterprise  and  daring ;  which  do  you 
prefer,  Colonel  Dangerfield?" 

"  The  latter,  undoubtedly.  Long  habits  have 
incapacitated  me  for  the  first,  but  I  believe,  I 
trust,  sir,  I  am  still  able  to  venture,  to  dare,  and 
to  suffer,  if  necessary.  That  course,  however,  I 
confess  would  be  most  agreeable  to  me,  which  led 
to  a  distant  sphere  of  action.  1  cannot  live  as  I 
and  my  fathers  have  been  accustomed  to  live 
here,  and  my  intention  is  to  go  where  I  am  not 
known." 

"  Would  you  like  to  go  to  Kentucky  ?"  asked 
Mactabb. 

Mrs.  Dangerfield  started. 

"  What !  the  dark  and  bloody  ground,  as  I  have 
heard  it  called  ?" 

Colonel  Dangerfield  considered  a  few  moments, 
and  seemed  pleased  with  the  suggestion  of  Mac- 
tabb.  The  Scot  then  informed  him  that  he  had 


WESTWARD   HO!  53 

lately  come  into  the  possession  of  a  large  tract  of, 
what  was  represented  to  be  the  richest  land  on 
Kentucky  River,  which  he  had  accepted  in  lieu 
of  a  debt.  That  a  company,  with  which  he  had 
associated  himself,  was  going  to  form  a  settlement 
immediately,  a  number  of  emigrants  having  en- 
tered into  an  agreement  to  "  start"  in  the  month 
of  March,  and  rendezvous  at  Pittsburg,  whence 
they  were  to  descend  the  Ohio  to  the  rnouth  of 
the  Kentucky ;  and  finally,  that  if  he  would  take 
the  direction  of  the  adventure,  the  choice  of  as 
much  land  as  he  wished  was  at  his  service. 

During  this  detail,  Colonel  Dangerfield  ex- 
changed glances  with  his  wife,  whose  counte- 
nance, like  the  limpid  waters  of  Lake  George, 
reflected  every  thing  that  passed  over  it.  She 
was  thinking  of  the  tales  of  murder  and  massacre 
which  constitute  the  early  history  of  the  dark 
and  bloody  ground ;  the  dangers,  the  loneliness,  the 
privations,  her  husband,  her  offspring,  and  herself 
must  suffer  and  endure  ;  the  toils  Ithat  must  be 
encountered  ere  they  could  reach  their  destined 
home,  and  the  exposures  that  would  follow  before 
they  could  expect  to  dwell  in  safety  under  their 
own  vine  and  their  own  fig-tree.  She  shuddered 
as  she  thought  of  the  future  destinies  of  her 
children,  who  had  been  bred  in  all  the  luxurious 
indulgence  of  southern  habits,  and  whose  every 
want,  and  wish,  and  caprice  had  been  gratified  by 
the  willing  assiduity  of  slaves,  who  never  contra- 
dicted or  opposed  their  most  unreasonable  desires. 
But  in  a  few  moments  the  cloud  passed  away. 

Women,  even  the  most  delicately  nurtured,  and 
the  most  apprehensive  in  their  dispositions,  love 
adventure'and  excitement  in  their  very  hearts. 
Distant  journeys  enchant  them,  and  the  anticipa- 


64  WESTWARD  HO! 

tion  of  novelty  is  irresistible.  Even  danger  has 
its  charms,  and  we  have  more  than  once  seen 
females  whose  vivacity  was  always  quickened  by 
its  approach.  Travelling  is  much  more  delightful 
to  them  than  to  the  other  sex.  and  the  prospect 
of  change  a  thousand  times  more  seductive,  from 
its  contrast  with  their  domestic  habits,  and  the 
uniformity  of  their  occupations.  The  name  of 
the  Ohio,  La  Belle  Riviere,  sounded  so  charm- 
ingly, and  the  prospect  of  gliding  down  its  smooth 
and  glassy  stream,  amid  endless  forests,  and  vast 
solitudes  of  nature,  came  with  a  romantic  seduc- 
tion across  her  imagination,  and  lighted  up  her 
face  with  a  willing  smile  of  acquiescence  in  the 
proposed  plan.  We  have  been  sometimes  led  to 
believe  that  the  natives  of  this  land  of  emigration 
inherited  from  their  ancestors  that  fearless  wan- 
dering disposition,  which  brought  them  to  the 
western  world,  and  which,  operating  in  a  region 
of  boundless  space,  is,  however  it  may  be  the 
subject  of  ridicule  or  censure,  the  habit,  or  the 
quality,  which  has  made  this  country  what  it  is, 
and  will  make  it  what  it  is  destined  to  become. 
It  is  founded  in  the  love  of  independence,  associ- 
ated with,  and  supported  by  courage  and  enter- 
prise. Like  the  young  partridge,  the  American 
is  scarcely  hatched,  ere  he  sets  out,  with  the  shell 
still  clinging  to  his  downy  wing,  in  search  of  a 
new  region  where  he  will  no  longer  be  a  burthen 
to  himself  or  others. 

Assuredly  the  attachment  to  home,  the  ties  of 
kindred,  the  chains  of  custom,  and  the  habits  of 
youth  exercise  a  wholesome  influence  in  softening 
and  humanizing  mankind.  Yet  still  they  ought 
never  to  be  indulged  at  the  sacrifice  of  the  higher 
qualities,  and  more  inflexible  duties,  of  the  human 


WESTWARD   HO!  55 

race.  To  be  a  useless  idler  at  the  parental  fire- 
side,  a  burthen  on  the  shoulders  of  kindred,  or  a 
dependant  on  the  kindness  or  bounty  of  friends, 
rather  than*  burst  these  ties  and  attachments,  how- 
ever amiable  it  may  be,  sinks  us  below,  far  below 
the  level  of  the  generous  manly  spirit,  which 
scorns  the  indulgence  of  such  a  weakness  at  such 
a  price,  and  dashes  forth  into  the  stormy  ocean  of 
life,  trusting  to  himself  and  his  Maker  whether 
he  shall  sink  or  swim.  1 

"  What  say  you,  Cornelia?"  asked  the  colonel, 
who  saw  her  answer  in  her  speaking  eye  ;  "  shall 
we  accept  the  offer,  and  become  the  founders  of  a 
new  empire  ?" 

Mrs.  Dangerfield  replied  in  something  like  the 
choice  language  of  a  Scripture  matron. 

."  Wheresoever  thou  goest,  there  will  I  go  ; 
wherever  thou  abidest,  there  will  I  also  abide  ; 
whatever  thou  endurest,  I  will  bear  my  portion 
of  the  chastening ;  thy  hope  shall  be  my  hope, 
thy  disappointment  my  disappointment.  I  am 
ready  to  go  with  thee,  my  husband,  be  it  whither 
it  will." 

Mactabb,  who  had  a  physiognomy  as  rough  as 
the  outside  of 'an  oystershell,  took  occasion  to 
wipe  his  spectacles,  which  had  become  rather  dim 
from  their  proximity  to  his  eyes.  And  now  they 
proceeded  to  settle  those  little  details,  which  how- 
ever indispensable  both  in  the  ordinary  and  extra- 
ordinary affairs  of  life,  are  utterly  unworthy  the 
dignity  of  romance,  which  we  maintain,  in  the 
very  teeth  of  the  musty  bookworm  critics,  is  the 
most  dignified,  as  well  as  useful  of  all  kinds  of 
writing,  if  not  to  the  reader,  at  least  to  the  author. 
What  did  Dan  Homer  get  $r  his  immortal 
poems  ?  Did  he  get  a  place  at  court,  a  pension, 


56  WESTWARD  HO! 

or  a  title  ?  or  did  he  get  his  pockets  filled  with 
ready  money?  Verily,  no, — he  attained  to  the 
honour  of  keeping  a  school  on  a  rock,  and  after- 
wards, when  old  and  blind,  was  chosen  king  of 
the  beggars,  the  only  dignity  he  ever  arrived  at 
during  his  life.  What  did  Will  Shakspeare  get 
for  Othello,  Macbeth,  Richard,  and  the  Midsum- 
mer Night's  Dream?  A  benefit  at  the  "Red 
Bull,"  or  some  such  queer  place.  What  did 
Otway  get  for  his  Venice  Preserved  ?  A  crust  of 
bread  which  choked  him.  What  Milton,  for  one 
of  the  very  noblest  efforts  of  human  genius? 
The  price  of  a  new  suit,  and  liberty  to  stay  in 
England  without  being  hanged.  What  did  Locke 
get  for  the  only  analysis  of  the"  human  under- 
standing which  the  human  understanding  was 
ever  able  to  comprehend?  Not  a  vice-chancel- 
lorship, mastership,  or  wardenship,  but  a  sentence 
of  expulsion  from  a  most  reverend  rookery. 

But  to  return  from  this  digression  into  which 
we  have  been  incontinently  'allured,  by  the  glo 
rious  vision  of  a  mighty  purse  of  golden  eagles 
(a  species  of  bird  now  almost  extinct  in  this 
hemisphere)  flitting  before  us,  and  making  a 
music  to  which  that  of  Pasta  and  Paganirii  is  a 
horrible  discord. 


WESTWARD   HO!  57 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Colonel  Dangcrfield  prepares  to  found  a  new  Empire. 

KNOWING  how  cgregiously  the  gentle  and  en- 
lightened reader  is  an  hungered  after  stirring  ad- 
ventures, bloody  feats,  and  such  like  delectable 
ingredients,  which,  like  Cayenne  and  spices,  give 
a  triumphant  zest  to  literary  entertainments,  and 
how  justly  he  abhorreth  that  dull  and  diabolical 
fiend  called  Common  Sense,  we  shall  not  detain 
him  from  the  marvellous  wonders  in  store  for  him 
a  moment  longer  than  is  necessary  to  record  a 
few  indispensable  preliminaries. 

When  it  was  known  that  the  estate  of  Powha- 
tan,  with  all  its  live  stock,  two-legged  and  four- 
legged,  saving  and  excepting  Barebones,  Pompey 
Ducklegs.  Pompey  the  Little,  and  the  rest  of  the 
Pompey  family,  young  and  old,  amounting  to 
some  five-and-forty,  had  passed  away  from  their 
ancient  owner,  there  was  weeping  and  gnashing 
of  teeth  among  the  inhabitants  of  the  little  village 
of  cabins,  where  dwelt  the  slaves  of  Colonel  Dan- 
gerfield,  in  the  possession  of  all  those  enjoyments 
of  which  their  state  is  susceptible.  They  thronged 
about  their  master  and  mistress,  begging  to  be 
taken  with  them  to  "  Old  Kentuck,"  where  they 
would  cut  down  the  big  trees,  plant  corn,  and  kill 
the  Indians.  The  colonel  was  affected,  and  Mrs. 
Dangerfield  could  not  restrain  her  tears  ;  but,  it 
being  now  evening,  she  directed  the  inspiring 
banjo  to  be  twanged  by  the  minstrel  of  Powhatan, 
c3 


58  'WESTWARD   HO' 

who,  strange  to  say,  was  prophetically  christened 
by  the  name  of  Orpheus,  or  Apollo,  for,  beshrew 
our  memory,  we  have  forgotten  which.  At  that 
irresistible  signal,  the  light-hearted  slaves,  the  very 
prototypes  of  children  in  their  joys,  their  sorrows, 
their  forgetful  ness  of  the  past,  their  indifference 
to  the  future,  listened,  dried  their  tears,  and  soon 
they  were  dancing  "double  trouble"  and  light  Vir- 

g'nia  reels,  with  a  triumphant,  grotesque  gesticu- 
tion,  a  zest,  an  hilarity  seasoned  by  such  shouts 
of  laughter  as  only  the  echoes  of  the  south  repeat 
to  the  listening  landscapes  far  and  wide.  They 
seemed  to  be  happy,  and  we  hope  they  were ;  for 
it  is  little  consolation  to  know,  or  to  believe,  that  a 
mode  of  existence  of  which  millions  of  beings  par- 
take is  inevitably  a  state  of  wretchedness. 

To  the  honour  of  Colonel  Dangerfield  it  must 
be  recorded,  that  though  Pompey  the  Little  did 
not  win  the  race,  he  offered  him  his  freedom  on 
this  occasion. 

"  I  cannot  afford  to  give  you  money,"  said  he, 
"  but  I  can  give  you  freedom." 

To  the  still  greater  honour  of  Pompey,  he  de- 
clined the  offer. 

"Ony  don't  leave  me  behind,  massa;  xiat  all 
nigger  want." 

When  the  great  Ducklegs  heard  this,  he  for- 
gave him  the  loss  of  the  race,  and  pronounced 
him  decidedly  "  an  honour  to  he  family." 

"  But  what  has  become  of  Mr.  Littlejohn  all  this 
while  ?"  the  reader  may  peradventure  inquire. 

When  the  colonel  apprized  him  of  the  transfer 
of  his  property  to  Mactabb,  and  the  intended  emi- 
gration to  Kentucky,  he  exclaimed,  with  uncon- 
trollable emotion,  "  My  G — d !"  and  burst  into  a 
passion  of  tears. 


WESTWARD   HO1.  59 

His  benefactor,  who  had  never  suspected  him 
of  so  much  feeling  before,  endeavoured  to  comfort 
him,  by  suggesting  a  variety  of  topics  of  consola- 
tion. But  it  was  all  in  vain ;  he  continued  to 
weep  with  a  degree  of  convulsive  agitation  exceed- 
ingly painful .  The  long  winter,  which  had  frozen 
his  feelings  into  ice,  seemed  to  have  broken  up  on 
a  sudden,  and  the  pent-up  waters  flowed  forth 
scorning  all  restraint. 

"  Don't  take  on  so,  Ulysses,"  said  the  colonel ; 
"  I  am  not  so  poor  but  I  can  allow  you  something 
to  live  on  when  I  am  gone.  Mactabb  will  receive 
you  for  a  small  allowance,  and  that  1  can  spare 
without  difficulty." 

"  May  the  thunder  and  lightning  strike  Mactabb 
and  all  his  race  !"  cried  Littlejohn,  suddenly 
checking  his  emotion,  or  rather  turning  it  into 
another  channel. 

"  Shame,  Littlejohn,  shame  ! — what  has  Mr. 
Mactabb  done  that  you  should  set  the  thunder  and 
lightning  at  him  ?" 

"  He's  got  Powhatan,  d — n  him  !" 

"  Well,  what  of  that  ?  he  came  by  it  honestly." 

"  I  don't  believe  it.  I  don't  believe  it  possible 
for  one  man  to  get  the  estate  of  another  honestly. 
It  stands  to  reason  the  Old  Boy  must  help  him, 
more  or  less !" 

The  colonel  could  not  forbear  a  smile  at  this  the- 
ory of  Mr.  Littlejohn. 

"  The  Old  Boy  sometimes  helps  people  to  get  rid 
of  an  estate,  I  believe,  as  well  as  to  get  one.  But 
I'll  tell  you  what,  Ulysses,  I  intend  to  give  you 
Barebones.  I  can't  bear  to  sell  him." 

"  Barebones,  colonel ! — I  wouldn't  have  him  if 
he  carried  a  packsaddle  of  guineas  ;  he's  just  fit 
to  take  a  bag  of  corn  to  mill,  and  be  hanged  to 
him !  Blame  me  if  I  believe  in  his  pedigree." 


60  WESTWARD   HO! 

"  You  don't,  Mr.  Littlejohn  ?  Let  me  tell  you, 
sir — confound  me,  sir  ! — let  rne  tell  you,  Mr.  Lit- 
tlejohn,"— and  the  colonel  spoke  between  his  shut 
teeth, — "  that  if  your  pedigree  were  as  undoubted 
as  that  of  Barebones,  you  might  hold  up  your 
head  a  little  higher  than  you  do.  Look  here,  sir," 
— jerking  out  his  pocket-book, — "  look  here,  sir," 
• — taking  out  a  piece  of  smokedried  paper, — "  look 
here,  sir," — unfolding  it, — "dam,  Kitty  Fisher,  sir; 
grandam,  Slow  and  Easy,  sir ;  great-grandam, 
Singed  Cat,  sir;  great-great-grandam,  Pettitoes, 
sir ;  great-great-great-grandam — 'sblood  !  Mr.  Lit- 
tlejohn, I  expect  the  next  thing  you  do  will  be  to 
call  me  the  son  of  a  tinker  !" 

A  moment  after  the  hand  of  Mr.  Littlejohn  was 
clasped  in  his  own,  for  he  remembered  that  Ulys- 
ses was  a  dependant,  and  himself  his  benefactor. 

"  Well,  well,  colonel,  I'm  sure  I  didn't  mean  to 
affront  you ;  but  that  tobacco  merchant  has  put 
me  so  out  that  I  hardly  know  what  I  say.  I  beg 
your  pardon  for  undervaluing  poor  Barebones." 

This  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever  begged  the 
colonel's  pardon,  and  he  did  it  now  in  compliment 
to  his  misfortunes. 

"  Then  you  will  take  the  horse  ?" 

"  No,  you  had  better  sell  him  ;  Allen  of  Clare- 
mont  told  me  the  other  day  he  would  give  a  thou- 
sand pounds  for  him." 

"  I'd  rather  shoot  him  than  sell  him  to  Allen  of 
Claremont." 

"  Well,  then,  colonel,  do  what  you  please  with 
him,  but  don't  part  with  me.  Take  me  with  you, 
and  I'll  work  for  you,  fight  for  you,  die  for  you, 
or  my  name's  not  Littlejohn." 
i  "  If  I  thought  you  would  be  comfortable  in  the 
wildernes^  I  should  like  to  have  you  with  me," 


WESTWARD   HO!  61 

"  Comfortable  !  I  shall  be  happy,  colonel ; 
and  I  can  make  myself  useful  too.  You  know  I 
am  a  capital  shot — a  true  sportsman." 

"  Yes,  I  know  you  sometimes  wander  about  all 
day,  and  come  home  half-starved,  mud  up  to  the 
middle,  with  a  bag  as  empty  as  when  you  went 
forth." 

If  his  patron  had  not  just  parted  with  his  estate, 
Mr.  Littlejohn  would  have  taken  this  matter  up 
warmly ;  but  as  it  was,  he  replied,  with  no  little 
appearance  of  mortification, 

"Ah  !  colonel,  you  will  have  your  joke.  But 
for  all  this,  I'll  bet  you  I  shoot  the  first  bear — " 

"  Done  !"  said  the  colonel ;  "  what  is  your  wa- 
ger ?" 

"  Nothing,"  said  the  other  ;  "  I  have  nothing  to 
lose,  now  I  think  of  it,  but  your  good-will,  and  that 
I  would  not  willingly  risk.  But  take  me  with 
you.  I  never  asked  any  thing  of  you  before,  for 
you  never  waited  for  that ;  but  now  I  do  beg  of 
you  to  take  me  with  you.  because  I  know  I  can 
be  of  use  some  way  or  other." 

"  You  will  be  tired  of  the  woods." 

"  No,  I  won't." 

"  You  will  be  miserable." 

"  And  if  I  am,  may  I  be  obliged  to  work  for  my 
bread  all  my  days  if  you  or  any  other  living  mor- 
tal shall  know  it.  I  will  take  care  of  the  horses  ; 
if  they  stray  into  the  woods  I'll  be  bound  I  find 
them.  I  will  watch  over  the  children  ;  and  blame 
me,  if  a  copper-coloured  creature  shows  his  face, 
if  I  don't  spoil  it  for  him  in  less  than  no  time.  Do 
let  me  go." 

"  On  one  condition  I  will.  Promise  me,  Little- 
john,  that  if  you  get  tired,  you  will  tell  me  so,  that 
I  may  send  you  back  again," 


62  WESTWARD   HO! 

+ 

"  There  is  no  use  in  it.  colonel ;  but  I  do  prom- 
ise. If  I  should  be  such  a  rascal,  I'll  tell  you  hon- 
estly ;  and  then — I  hope  the  first  bear  I  meet  will 
hug  me  to  death." 

It  was  settled  accordingly  that  he  should  accom- 
pany the  party ;  and  Littlejohn  forthwith  sought 
his  old  friend  Barebones,  to  whom  he  communi- 
cated the  matter,  and  who  received  the  news  with 
one  of  his  usual  significant  chuckles,  being  doubt- 
less ignorant  that  this  arrangement  would  for  ever 
separate  them  in  this  world. 


WESTWARD   HO1.  63 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"  Over  the  hills  and  far  away" 

THE  arrangements  of  the  company  contemplated 
a  meeting  of  the  little  band  of  emigrants  at  Phila- 
delphia, as  a  portion  of  them  were  to  come  from  the 
eastAvard;  and  Colonel  Dangerneld  accordingly 
took  up  his  line  of  march  for  that  beautiful  city, 
unmindful  of  the  dangers  he  was  about  to  encoun- 
ter from  the  non-combatant  inhabitants.  We  pass 
over  the  farewell  scene ;  the  sincere  though  short- 
lived griefs  of  the  vassals  of  Powhatan  at  parting 
with  their  good  "  massa"  and  kind  "  missee  ;"  the 
thoughtless  wonder  of  the  two  children;  the  long, 
last,  lingering,  farewell  look  of  the  parents,  as  they 
stopped  the  carriage  for  a  moment  on  the  summit 
of  a  hill,  and  gazed  their  eyes  dim  at  the  home 
they  were  destined  never  to  visit  again.  It  was  a 
lovely,  peaceful  scene ;  but  what  is  beauty,  what 
is  peace,  what  is  every  earthly  enjoyment  but  gall 
and  bitterness  when  we  know  that  we  see,  and 
feel,  and  taste  them  for  the  last  time  ! 

We  would  willingly  linger  a  little  while  to  de- 
scribe the  abode  of  Colonel  Dangerneld ;  but  we 
have  a  long  journey  and  a  long  story  before  us. 
Description  must  in  future  give  place  to  action, 
and  sentiment  to  adventure.  We  must  be  busy, 
and  if  we  occasionally  stop  a  moment  to  utter  a 
thought  or  describe  a  scene  in  the  course  of  our 
wayfaring,  it  must  be  brief,  for  the  time  is  precious. 
Life  is  short  and  romances  long.  Happy,  thrice 


64  WESTWARD   HO! 

happy  is  he.  and  thrice  three  times  wise,  who  hath 
time  and  patience  to  read  them  all ! 

The  party  gave  one  day  to  Richmond  and  their 
friends.  Everybody  pitied  Mrs.  Dangerfield,  and 
yet,  perhaps,  she  was  quite  as  happy  as  them- 
selves ;  for  nothing  is  more  common  than  such 
mistakes.  Mactabb  was  with  them  all  day  ;  and 
that  he  gave  them  his  time,  which  he  considered 
the  most  precious  of  all  things,  was  a  greater 
proof  of  his  friendship  than  even  the  many  neces- 
sary little  articles  his  foresight  had  provided  for 
their  comfort,  and  which  he  insisted  on  their  ac- 
cepting. Honest  Scot !  perhaps  thou  and  I  are 
about  to  part  for  ever ;  yet  in  this  age  of  bluster- 
ing pretence,  empty  affectation,  commonplace  cant, 
and  unprincipled  prodigality,  I  will  not  miss  this 
opportunity  of  bearing  my  testimony  to  thy  unpre- 
tending homely  virtues,  although,  in  honest  truth, 
thou  hadst  of  all  men  I  ever  saw  the  most  un- 
promising face  for  a  philanthropist.  The  colonel 
presented  him  with  the  renowned  Barebones,  and 
Mactabb  promised  on  his  word  that  he  should 
never  be  degraded  to  any  useful  occupation. 

Nothing  worthy  of  record  occurred  in  the  jour- 
ney to  Philadelphia;  but  scarcely  had  Danger- 
field  established  himself  in  a  hotel  ere  Pompey 
Ducklegs  was  beleaguered  by  a  well-meaning  gen- 
tleman, who  assured  him  that,  if  so  pleased, 
he  and  all  the  Pompey  family  were  free  from 
that  moment.  The  name  of  freedom  is  dear  to 
the  heart  of  man,  most  especially  of  the  man  of 
colour ;  and  Pompey  was  sorely  tempted  to  aban- 
don his  old  master.  Just  then,  however,  a  miser- 
able, debased,  poverty-stricken  black  man  came 
by,  and,  stopping  opposite  the  gentleman,  begged 
his  charity. 


WESTWARD   HO!  65 

"  Art  thou  not  ashamed,  being  a  freeman,  friend, 
to  beg  in  the  streets  ?  Canst  thou  get  no  work  ?" 

"I  have  been  a  long  time  sick,  and  am  too 
weak  to  work,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Well,  then,  corne  to  my  house  this  afternoon, 
friend,  and  I  will  give  thee  an  order  to  the  hos- 
pital." 

The  pauper  passed  on  without  thanking  him, 
and  he  had  scarcely  departed  when  a  black  wo- 
man, displaying  in  her  face  and  clothing  all  the 
indications  of  profligacy  and  misery,  staggered 
past  them,  uttering  the  most  disgusting  and  blas- 
phemous imprecations.  She  was  followed  by  a 
child  of  the  same  colour,  crying  and  calling  after 
her  in  a  language  as  depraved  as  her  own.  Close 
in  their  rear  marched  a  ferocious  bewhiskered 
caitiff,  dark  as  ebony,  gallanted  by  two  peace-offi- 
cers :  he  had  been  guilty  of  robbing  and  almost 
murdering  a  white  woman. 

"  Who  all  dese  here  people  ?"  asked  Pompey, 
in  a  tone  of  dignified  disgust. 

"  They  are  free  people  of  colour,  friend ;  and 
thou  canst  be  free  likewise  if  thou  wilt." 

"  No,  tank  you,"  quoth  Ducklegs,  and  departed 
without  ceremony  to  solicit  his  master  to  buy 
these  miserable  people  and  take  them  to  Ken- 
tucky. 

A  few  days  sufficed  to  bring  together  and  to 
complete  the  preparations  of  the  little  band  of  ad- 
venturers ;  and  now  they  were  on  their  way  to 
Pittsburg,  whence  they  were  to  descend  the 
Ohio  to  the  place  of  their  final  destination.  At 
that  time,  the  region  beyond  the  great  Alle- 
ghany  range  of  mountains,  the  'whole  of  the 
valley  of  the  Mississippi  (which  centres  within  its 
vast  tide  the  tributary  waters  of  a  thousand 


66  WESTWARD   HO1. 

streams,  coming,  as  it  were,  from  the  opposite  ends 
of  the  earth)  was  denominated  the  Back  Woods. 
The  inhabitant  of  the  Atlantic  states  looked  at 
the  blue  outline  of  these  majestic  hills,  which-  are 
aptly  called  the  back-bone  of  North  America,  as 
the  extremest  verge  of  the  civilized  world  of  the 
West.  Beyond  was  all  forests,  wild  beasts,  and 
wild  Indians,  in  their  estimation.  It  was  the  region 
of  danger,  of  adventure,  and  romance,  and,  to  the 
timid,  apprehensive  mind,  it  loomed  "  that  bourne 
from  whence  no  traveller  returns."  Indeed,  no 
one  at  this  late  period  can  realize  the  romantic,  the 
appalling  interest  which  accompanied  the  emi- 
grants to  this  wild  and  dangerous  solitude,  or 
estimate  the  heroism  of  those  who  first  dared  to 
encounter  its  tremendous  vicissitudes. 

It  was  towards  the  middle  of  the  month  of 
March  that  they  began  to  ascend  the  Alleghany 
Mountains  by  a  slow  and  painful  pace.  They 
had  seen  them  at  a  great  distance  for  some  days, 
rearing  their  blue  heads,  and  carrying  their  wav- 
ing lines  from  south  to  north,  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach,  and  it  seemed  to  them  that  they 
formed  the  barriers  of  the  world  in  that  direction. 
Occasionally  they  encountered  one  of  those  "  land 
carracks"  called  Pittsburg  wagons,  conducted  by 
a  strange  original,  who  lived  on  the  road  all  his 
life,  and  whom  we  are  almost  tempted  to  describe 
as  a  new  and  rare  species,  which  in  this  age  of 
canals,  railroads,  and  steamboats,  will,  like  the  Mis- 
sissippi boatmen  and  the  mammoth,  soon  become 
extinct,  and  be  classed  among  the  fabulous  crea- 
tions of  monsters.  Sometimes  they  met  a  drove 
of  swine,  more  numerous  than  the  wool-clad  war- 
riojcs  pf  Trapoban,  so  disastrous  to  him  of  the  rue- 
ful countenance,  and  of  such  an  original  air  of 


WESTWARD   HO!  67 

wildness,  such  rugged  coats,  and  such  a  savage 
grunt,  that  they  seemed  to  be  the  representatives 
of  the  wild  region  from  which  they  were  emi- 
grating. Here  and  there  along  the  road  were 
seen  the  relics  of  many  a  wayfaring  catastrophe, 
—broken  axletrees,  wheels  reft  of  their  tire,  and 
other  mementoes  of  disasters  dire.  Nay,  the  very 
signs  of  the  taverns  savoured  of  an  approach  to 
new  scenes  and  associations.  The  Wild  Turkey, 
the  Bald  Eagle,  the  Wolf,  and  the  Bear,  portrayed 
in  all  the  horrors  of  rustic  ingenuity,  and  coloured 
with  an  utter  disregard  of  nature  and  probability, 
gave  shrewd  indications  that  here  was  to  be  found 
entertainment  for  man  and  horse. 

At  length,  descending  the  last  ridge  of  the  Al- 
leghany,  they  were  greeted  with  the  first  view  of 
the  valley  of  the  Ohio.  We  would  attempt  to  de- 
scribe the  vast  yet  beautiful  features  of  this  strik- 
ing and  magnificent  display ;  but  we  are  not  on 
a  picturesque  tour,  and  though  we  delight  to  lin- 
ger in  the  delicious  solitudes  of  nature,  and  love 
to  recall  their  recollection  more  vividly  by  describ- 
ing them,  yet  time  presses,  and  we  must  pass  on 
to  other  scenes. 

On  arriving  at  Pittsburg,  Colonel  Dangerfield 
assumed  the  task  of  superintending  the  prepara- 
tions for  embarking  on  the  Ohio.  Mr.  Littlejohn 
proffered  his  assistance  with  great  alacrity,  and  it 
was  highly  amusing  to  see  that  professional  idler 
all  at  once  metamorphosed  into  a  rrtost  provokjng 
and  inveterate  busybody,  with  the  happiest  faculty 
in  the  world  of  delaying  every  thing  he  undertook 
to  advance,  and  standing  in  the  way  of  everybody 
he  aifected  to  assist.  The  colonel  too  was  de- 
plorably deficient  in  experience  of  the  best  means 
and  modes  of  conducting  these  modern  argonauts ; 


68  WESTWARD   HO'. 

but,  as  it  happened,  fortune  had  sent  him  a  most 
efficient  coadjutor  in  the  person  of  one  of  the 
party,  who  had  been  in  Kentucky  before,  and,  as 
he  said,  was  as  much  at  home  there  as  a  prairie- 
dog;"in  his  hole. 

His  name  was  Ambrose  Bushfield,  born  in  North 
Carolina,  and  one  of  those  singular  examples  of 
native  energy,  inborn  sagacity,  and  daring  enter- 
prise with  which  the  early  history  of  every  part 
of  the  west  abounds.  Nurtured  among  the  moun- 
tains of  his  native  state,  free  as  the  air  he  breathed, 
he  grew  up  tall  and  straight,  and  hardy  as  the 
trees  of  the  primeval  forests,  where  he  passed  most 
of  his  time  in  hunting  and  rural  sports  of  danger 
and  enterprise.  He  could  neither  read  nor  write, 
yet  he  was  not  ignorant  or  vulgar  j  and  his  feel- 
ings, by  some  strange  freak  of  nature  or  combina- 
tion of  circumstances,  partook  of  the  character  of 
gentleman  in  more  ways  than  one.  It  was  said 
that  an  early  disappointment  in  love,  or,  as  others 
affirmed,  the  discovery  that  the  region  he  inhab- 
ited was  becoming  so  populous  that  he  could  hear 
his  neighbour's  dog  bark,  drove  him  some  years 
before  lo  join  his  fortunes  with  Boone,  who  was 
then  laying  the  foundation  of  what  will  probably 
some  day  be  one  of  the  richest  and  most  populous 
empires  of  the  world. 

After  encountering  a  series  of  dangers  and  suf- 
ferings such  as  nothing  but  reality  can  make  cred- 
ible, he  was  captured  by  the  Indians,  who  painted 
him  black,  and  devoted  him  to  the  torture.  Their 
intention  was  to  carry  him  to  their  village  before 
they  proceeded  to  the  last  acts  of  barbarity.  In 
the  mean  time  they  amused  themselves  with 
placing  him  bound  hand  and  foot  on  a  half- wild 
horse  they  had  stolen  on  the  borders  of  Virginia, 


WESTWARD   HO!  69 

and  setting  him  adrift,  like  Mazeppa,*  to  scamper 
through  the  woods  full  speed,  while  the  savages 
followed,  yelling  in  horrible  triumph.  At  every 
Indian  village  they  visited  he  ran  the  gauntlet 
after  their  fashion,  where  hundreds  of  savages 
placed  themselves  in  parallel  rows,  armed  with 
clubs jmd  whips,  with  which  each  one  did  his  best 
to  beat  him  to  the  earth  before  he  reached  the 
goal,  where,  if  he  arrived,  he  was  entitled  by  in- 
flexible custom  to  exemption  from  the  stake. 
There  is  scarcely  a  possibility  that  this  should 
ever  happen,  except  by  a  miracle ;  and  accord- 
ingly Bushfield,  though  he  had  the  strength  of  a 
giant  and  the  nerves  of  a  lion,  was  invariably 
knocked  down  before  he  could  gain  the  sanctuary 
of  the  council-house. 

Arriving  at  their  village,  preparations  were 
made  for  burning  him ;  and  the  ceremony  was 
about  to  commence,  by  marching  the  wretched 
victim  round  the  village  with  shouts  and  savage 
yells,  with  a  view  to  wear  down  his  strength  and 
spirit,  so  that  they  might  enjoy  his  fears  and  ban- 
quet on  his  groans.  In  the  course  of  this  circuit 
they  passed  the  hut  of  one  of  those  renegade 
white  men  whose  crimes  had  banished  him  from 
the  society  of  his  fellows,  arid  who  had  taken 
refuge  among  the  Indians.  His  hatred  of  the 
whites  was  that  of  a  fiend ;  and  among  till  the 
cruel  enemies,  whether  man  or  beast,  whom  the 
early  emigrants  had  to  encounter,  this  wretched 
outcast  was  the  most  to  be  dreaded.  On  hearing 
what  was  going  forward,  he  rushed  out  of  his 
cabin,  like  a  tiger  from  his  lair,  seized  the  victim 
round  the  waist,  threw  him  to  the  ground  with  all 

*  See  "  Recollections,"  of  the  Reverend  Timothy  Flint. 


70  WESTWARD  HO! 

the  force  of  malignant  fury,  and,  placing  his  knee 
upon  his  breast,  flourished  his  knife  in  triumph. 
Bushfield  recognised  in  this  ruthless  recreant 
one  of  the  early  companions  of  his  youth.  He 
called  him  by  name,  told  him  his,  and  besought 
Iris  good  offices.  The  appeal  was  not  in  vain. 
Wretch  as  he  was,  the  renegade  remembered  and 
yielded  to  the  claims  of  his  boyish  associate.  He 
lifted  him  from  the  ground,  and  the  recollections 
of  his  youthful  home,  his  early  attachments ;  of 
what  he  had  been,  and  what  he  was,  so  wrought 
upon  his  iron  heart,  that  he  embraced  Bushfield, 
and  wept  while  he  promised  his  interposition  in 
his  favour.'  Such  was  his  influence,  that  he 
finally  obtained  the  pardon  of  the  captive,  who 
was  permitted  to  accompany  him  to  his  hut.  But 
the  renegade,  who  knew  too  well  the  unsteady  na- 
ture of  the  savages,  and  the  difficulty  with  which 
they  were  brought  to  relinquish  the  gratification  of 
torturing  a  prisoner,  advised  and  assisted  Bush- 
field  to  make  his  escape  that  very  night.  Accord- 
ingly he  fled,  and  though  obliged  to  thread  a  path- 
less forest  of  some  hundreds  of  miles  without 
compass  or  direction  except  his  own  sagacity,  he 
finally  reached  the  settlement  of  his  old  friend 
Boone  time  enough  to  enjoy  the  pleasure  of  aveng- 
ing his  sufferings,  by  assisting  in  beating  a  party 
of  Indians  that  soon  after  besieged  the  little  fort 
of  the  patriarch  of  Kentucky.  Many  years  hav- 
ing elapsed  since  he  left  the  place  of  his  birth,  he 
determined  to  pay  it  a  visit ;  but  finding,  as  he 
said,  the  country  become  so  effeminate  and  cor- 
rupt that  the  men  preferred  featherbeds  to  dry 
leaves,  and  woollen  coverlids  to  a  sky  blanket,  he 
was  now  on  his  return  to  spend  the  remainder  of 
his  days  in  "  Old  Kentuck,"  which  after  all.  was 


WESTWARD    HO!  71 

the  only  place  for  a  gentleman,  though  to  be  sure 
it  was  becoming  rather  too  thickly  settled.  In  his 
person  Bushfield  was  one  of  those  rare  speci- 
mens of  men,  the  united  product  of  pure  air, 
wholesome  exercise,  warlike  habits,  and  perfect 
freedom  of  body  and  mind.  He  was  upwards  of 
six  feet  high,  perfectly  straight,  and  without  an 
ounce  of  superfluous  flesh  in  his  whole  compo- 
sition. There  was  a  singular  ease,  one  might 
almost  call  it  gracefulness,  in  his  carriage ;  and 
his  dress,  which  consisted  of  a  buckskin  hunting- 
shirt,  a  rackoon-skin  cap  and  leggings,  was  highly 
picturesque.  There  was  nothing  vulgar  or  dowdy 
in  his  appearance  or  address,  which  was  that  of  a 
man  who  believed  himself  equal  to  his  fellow-men 
in  any  circumstances  or  situation  that  called  for 
the  exercise  of  manly  vigour  or  daring  enterprise. 
Divers  were  the  consultations  of  the  colonel 
with  his  trusty  and  efficient  counsellor  Bushfield 
on  the  selection  of  barks  to  float  them  down  the 
Ohio,  for  verily  there  was  a  sufficient  variety  to 
puzzle  one  in  the  choice.  Here  was  the  Alleghany 
skiiF,  the  dug-out,  formed  from  a  single  tree,  the 
piroque,  the  covered  sled,  the  keel-boat,  the  flat- 
boat,  and  every  other  boat  that  the  genius  of  man, 
Left  to  its  unlimited  caprices,  or  inspired  by  the 
fruitful  mother  of  invention,  could  contrive  or 
bring  to  maturity.  Among  these  the  capacious 
broad-horn  appeared  eminently  conspicuous,  re- 
sembling a  floating  house,  nearly  as  broad  as  it  is 
long,  and  containing  a  suite  of  apartments  for 
almost  every  animal,  from  sovereign  man  to  sub- 
ject cattle,  sheep,  horses,  dogs,  and  ignoble  swine. 
In  its  primitive  simplicity  it  hath  neither  bow  nor 
stern,  larboard  nor  starboard ;  and  in  high  spring 
freshets,  as  they  are  called,  it  is  the  most  convc- 


72  WESTWARD    HO  > 

nient  boat  in  the  world,  since  if  it  strikes  the  shore 
with  one  horn,  it  directly  wheels  round  with  the 
current,  and  away  it  goes  the  other  end  fore- 
most. 

The  colonel  and  his  prime-minister  decided  at 
length  in  favour  of  the  broad-horn,  and  accord- 
ingly some  of  prodigious  dimensions  were  hired, 
almost  large  enough  to  accommodate  the  mani- 
fold freight  of  old  Noah's  ark.  In  these  were  em- 
barked most  of  the  necessaries  for  forming  a  new 
settlement  far  in  the  wilderness,  certain  domestic 
animals  ecjually  indispensable,  and  the  company 
of  emigrants,  with  the  exception  of  Colonel  Dan- 
gerfield  and  his  family,  who  had  a  smaller  broad- 
horn  provided  for  their  especial  accommodation. 
The  colonel  had  purchased  a  quantity  of  plain  and 
substantial  furniture  and  a  small  collection  of 
books,  among  which  was  a  volume  of  laws,  to  aid 
liim  in  the  government  of  his  woodland  empire. 
The  river  being  now  rising,  and  sufficiently  high 
for  their  purpose,  they  all  embarked  one  fine  sun- 
shiny morning,  and,  launching  their  broad-horns 
on  the  ample  tide,  bade  a  long  adieu  to  the  haunts 
of  civilized  man,  the  enjoyments  of  civilized  life. 


WESTWARD   HO!  73 


CHAPTER  IX. 

"  Now  fare  thee  well,  dear  haunts  of  social  men ! 
Long  may  it  be  ere  we  shall  meet  again. 
Farewell  the.village  church  and  tolling  bell, 
Sounding  to  prayers  or  rustic  fun'ral  knell ; 
The  lively  fields,  where  men  and  herds  are  seen 
Sporting  or  labouring  morn  and  eve  between ; 
The  smoke  of  rural  hamlet  curling  high 
Above  the  trees,  in  peaceful  summer  sky ; 
The  ploughman's  whistle,  and  the  lambkin's  bleat, 
The  tinkling  music  of  the  herd  so  sweet, 
All,  all  farewell !" 

THE  broad-horn  in  which  Colonel  Dangerfield 
and  his  family  embarked  on  their  voyage  down 
the  Ohio  formed  an  oblong  square,  on  which  was 
erected  a  rather  rude  cabin,  containing  two  rooms 
sufficiently  tight  to  protect  them  against  the  ordi- 
nary vicissitudes  of  the  weather.  The  captain  and 
owner  of  this  primitive  vessel  was  a  long-sided, 
weather-beaten  oddity,  by  name  Sam  Hugg, 
who  was  all  the  way  from  Mad  River,  and 
always,  according  to  his  own  account,  "wide 
awake  and  duly  sober."  His  assistants  were  two 
men  and  a  lad,  whose  real  or  whose  nickname 
was  Cherub  Spooney,  "  a  smart  chance  of  a  boy 
any  how."  A  large  portion  of  the  banks  of  the 
Ohio  was  at  that  time  in  a  state  of  nature,  yet 
still  of  nature  in  the  prime  of  her  beauty. 
The  morning  was  mild  and  fair,  and  the  young 
spring  had  now  put  on  her  robe  of  whispering 
leaves.  Gigantic  sycamores,  the  growth  of  ages, 
and  the  children  of  an  unexhausted  soil;  lined  the 

VOL,  i, — D  7 


74  WESTWARD   HOt 

way  on  either  hand,  except  occasionally  in  some 
receding  cove,  a  little  prairie  covered  with  wild 
flowers  varied  the  scene.  Not  a  living  soul  ex- 
cept themselves  seemed  to  breathe,  and  move,  and 
have  a  being  in  this  region  of  repose  ;  which,  not- 
withstanding, teemed  with  danger  and  death. 
Within  the  bosom  of  these  eternal  forests  roamed 
herds  of  savage  beasts  and  savage  men,  who,  in- 
deed, at  this  moment  professed  to  be  at  peace  with 
the  white  man,  but  whose  friendship  could  not  be 
depended^on  from  one  hour  to  another.  They 
glided  along  without  noise  and  without  toil,  and, 
to  judge  from  the  listless  inactivity  of  the  boat- 
men, one  would  have  set  them  down  as  the  most 
indolent  of  mankind,  and  their  occupation  the 
least  laborious  and  dangerous. 

But  perhaps  no  people  on  the  face  of  the  earth 
or  the  waters  endured  more  hardships,  encoun- 
tered more  severe  toils,  or  displayed  more  energy 
and  perseverence  in  the  hour  of  vicissitude.  Many 
a  rude  memorial  along  the  banks  of  the  Ohio  and 
Mississippi  to  this  day  marks  the  last  resting-place 
of  some  worn-out  boatman,  and  attests  that  here 
as  well  as  elsewhere  life  resembles  the  stream  of 
which  the  descent  is  smooth  and  easy,  the  ascent 
a  perpetual  struggle,  ending  in  disappointment 
and  death. 

As  thus  they  slipped  along,  the  colonel  and  Mrs. 
Dangerfield  sat  watching  the  ever-changing,  mel- 
ancholy, yet  delightful  scene,  opening  at  every 
turn  of  this  the  most  beautifully  serpentine 
of  all  the  rivers  of  the  west,  some  new  vista 
of  little  wild  meadows,  round  forest  hills,  or 
abrupt  cliffs  frowning  over  the  waters.  There 
was  something  in  the  scene  before  them,  the 
anticipation  of  that  which  was  to  come,  and 


WESTWARD  HO!  75 

the  memory  of  those  which  were  past,  that 
called  up  feelings  of  melancholy  neither  altogether 
painful,  nor  yet  devoid  of  painful  associations. 
We  win  not  so  far  undervalue  our  readers  as  to 
suppose  them  incapable  of  realizing  what  these 
were  ;  for  who  is  there  that  has  not  at  some  time 
or  other,  in  youth  or  manhood,  been  cut  adrift 
from  some  long-cherished  tie,  some  favourite  spot, 
some  dear  enjoyment  ?  and  who  is  there  that  has 
not  been  reminded  bitterly  of  the  past  by  the 
very  enjoyments  of  the  present  moment  ? 

No  one  relished  the  scene  and  the  occasion  so 
much  as  Mr.  Littlejohn.  The  quiet,  the  repose, 
the  freedom  from  all  labour  and  exertion  came 
over  him  with  a  delicious  enchantment,  and,  as 
he  was  wont  afterwards  to  say  in  his  old  age,  laid 
his  soul  upon  a  feather-bed.  He  scraped  acquaint- 
ance with  Captain  Huggrwho  charmed  him  with 
the  story  of  the  Indian  who  found  a  flint,  and 
travelled  three  hundred  miles  to  buy  a  gun  for  it ; 
of  the  attack  and  discomfiture  of  the  band  of  rob- 
bers which  once  occupied  Mason's  Cave,  and  plun- 
dered the  boats  as  they  passed  up  and  down 
the  stream  ;  and  various  famous  legends  of  this 
land  of  romance  and  adventure.  In  the  evening 
he  played  the  fiddle  for  him  delightfully,  while 
the  boatman  danced  Virginia  reels  on  the  roof  of 
the  broad-horn,  and  made  little  Cherub  Spooney 
sing  him  the  song  of  "  The  Owl  that  died  of  the 
Whooping-cough,"  together  with  divers  other  har- 
monious ditties,  which,  in  the  quiet  of  the  scene, 
and  when  replied  to  by  the  echoes  of  the  frown- 
ing bluffs,  were  exquisitely  toothsome  to  the  ear 
of  Mr.  Littlejohn,  as  well  as  Pompey  Duckiegs, 
who  listened  with  his  mouth  wide  open,  after  the 


76  WESTWARD   HO  I 

manner  of  gentlemen  of  colour.  One  of  these 
was  so  congenial  to  his  taste  that  he  learned  it  by 
heart,  and  long  time  after  used  to  sing  it  for  Miss 
Virginia  Dangerfield.  It  ran  as  follows,  and  we 
believe  hath  never  before  been  stereotyped. 

"  Our  wives  we  kiss'd,  we  journeyed  west, 

Over  the  mountains  blue, 

For  there  we  were  told  there  was  land  to  be  sold, 
The  like  you  never  knew. 

Over  the  Alleghany,  over  the  Alleghany, 
Our  horses  are  good,  we've  an  excellent  road 
Over  the  Alleghany. 

And  we  bought  us  a  boat,  and  set  her  afloat, 

And  down  the  river  we  glided, 
And  on  every  hand  we  saw  excellent  land, 
Where  none  but  the  Ingens  resided. 

All  on  the  Ohio,  boys, 

When  the  wind  is  ahead  there's  no  more  to  be  said, 
All  on  the  Ohio,  boys. 

Our  neat  little  bark  beats  every  ark 

That  lives  on  the  Ohio,  boys  ; 
And  along  as  you  float  you  may  shoot  from  the  boat 

Just  what  kind  of  game  you  please,  boys  ; 
For  there  it's  no  treat  to  have  plenty  to  eat, 
There's  food  on  every  tree,  boys. 
All  on  the  Ohio,  boys, 
All  on  the  Ohio,  boys, 

When  the  wind's  ahead  there's  no  more  to  be  said, 
We  must  off  with  our  coats  and  row,  boys." 

It  is  affirmed  that  this  ditty  is  in  its  primitive 
exuberance  nearly  as  long  as  the  Ohio,  and  that 
the  boatmen,  instead  of  measuring  distances  by 
their  pipes,  like  the  ancient  Dutchmen  of  the  Man- 
hadoes,  as  fame  reports ;  or  as  the  Mussulmans  do 
by  hours,  did  always  calculate  the  number  of 
miles  by  the  number  of  its  verses.  But  the  fore- 
going were  all  that  the  chanting  Cherub  Spooney 
could  be  prevailed  upon  to  sing,  or  perhaps  all  he 
knew,  notwithstanding  Captain  Sam  Hugg  threat- 


WESTWARD   HO!  77 

ened  to  "drive  him  like  a  flash  of  lightning 
through  a  gooseberry-bush"  for  his  refusal. 

"  I'll  be  choked  with  a  saw-log  if  I  do,"  replied 
Spooney :  and  Captain  Hugg  justly  considering 
that 

The  man  who  sings  against  his  will 
Had  better  keep  his  whistle  still, — 

refrained  from  putting  his  threat  into  execution, 
observing, 

"  Very  well,  old  fellow ;  see  if  I  don't  row  you 
up  Salt  River  before  you  are  many  days  older." 

Late  in  the  still,  starry  night,  as  the  captain  and 
one  Zephi  Teal,  his  first  officer,  sat  watching  the 
course  of  the  broad-horn  while  she  glided  along, 
by  the  bright  beams  of  a  full-moon,  the  former 
observed  that  the  river  was  rising  rapidly,  and  the 
force  of  the  current  increasing. 

"  There  has  been  a  mighty  grist  of  rain  lately 
up  above,  and  the  snows  on  the  mountains  must 
have  all  melted  in  a  hurry.  I  reckon  we  shall 
have  a  powerful  freshet,  Zephi." 

"Yes,"  said  Zephi ;  "it's  above  high-water  mark 
already,  and  rises  like  the  water  in  a  boiling  pot. 
I  never  seen  it  so  high  but  once  afore,  and  that 
was  when  Orson  Upson's  broad-horn  was  carried 
clean  over  the  tops  of  the  Button  Woods,  and  Di- 
vine Goodyear's  house  floated  all  the  way  down  to 
the  Big  Bend,  with  the  family  in  it." 

"  Whew — w — w !"  whistled  Captain  Hugg ;  "  in 
what  year  of  our  Lord  was  that,  Zeph  ?" 

"Why,  the  year  you  got  such  a  licking  from 
the  Yankee  pedlar  at  Pittsburg,  I  calculate." 

"  I'll  be  shot,"  exclaimed  Hugg,  "if  any  Yankee 
pedlar  that  ever  stepped  'twixt  here  and  the  other 
side  of  the  end  of  the  yearth  ever  treed  Sam  Hugg. 


78  WESTWARD   HOl 

It's  a  lie,  whoever  said  it.  But  did  you,  in  good 
earnest,  see  Divine  Goodyear's  house  floating 
down  stream,  with  the  family  in  it  ?" 

"  If  I  didn't  may  I  be  rowed  up  Salt  River." 

"  I  should  like  to  have  seen  the  old  sinner ;  I 
dare  say  he  prayed  like  a  horse." 

"  Yes,  that  he  did.  I  heard  him  snortin  ( Now 
I  lay  me  down  to  sleep,'  as  he  went  past  the  cove 
where  I  had  tied  my  boat  to  the  top  of  a  big  tree 
a  hundred  foot  high." 

Thus  they  communed  together  till  the  first 
blush  of  the  morning  appeared  in  the  east,  and 
the  gradual  opening  of  the  scene  showed  the 
swelling  stream  rolling  down  in  boiling  ed- 
dies, and  its  dark-brown  surface  strewed  with  the 
spoils  of  the  earth.  The  gigantic  trees  on  the 
bottoms,  as  they  are  called  in  the  language  of  the 
west,  stood  midway  quivering  in  the  waters,  with 
nothing  but  the  branches  visible.  The  first  and 
second  banks  of  the  river  had  disappeared,  and 
wherever  the  hills  receded  from  the  shore  the 
waters  rolled  over  the  earth,  sweeping  along  with 
them  every  loose  thing  on  its  surface.  The  pic- 
ture of  the  deluge  was  renewed ;  for  the  solid 
ground  was  no  longer  a  place  of  safety,  and  the 
scene  was  as  solitary  as  that  which  the  world  ex- 
hibited when  all  that  remained  of  its  living  myri- 
ads was  sheltered  in  Noah's  ark,  floating  about  at 
the  mercy  of  a  shoreless  ocean  that  tumbled  round 
the  ball. 

The  accelerated  course  of  the  current,  and  the 
eddies  and  whirlpools  occasioned  by  the  force  of 
the  pent-up  or  embarrassed  waters,  rendered  the 
broad-horns  somewhat  unmanageable  ;  and  then 
was  exhibited  the  hardy  character,  the  indomi- 
table energy,  the  reckless  courage  of  that  singular 


WESTWARD   HO  !  79 

race,  which  the  introduction  of  the  steamboat  on 
the  western  waters  has  almost  rendered,  like  the 
mammoth,  traditionary.  The  labour  and  the  skill 
required  in  the  management  of  these  unwieldy 
masses,  the  ever-watchful  and  intense  attention 
necessary  to  keep  them  from  driving  out  of  the 
strait  current  of  the  river  into  the  drowned  woods, 
and  suffering  shipwreck,  cannot  be  conceived  by 
any  person  who  has  not  witnessed  such  a  crisis 
as  that  we  are  attempting  to  sketch  with  feeble 
effort.  It  made  Mr.  Littlejohn  perspire  to  look  at 
them,  and  for  ever  quelled  a  latent  inclination  he 
had  recently  cherished  to  become  the  redoubtable 
owner  and  commander  of  a  broad-horn  on  the 
beautiful  Ohio. 

There  is  something  excitingly  sublime  in  the 
exhibition  of  the  great  phenomena  of  nature ;  the 
littleness  of  man  derives  a  self-importance  from 
the  consciousness  of  some  remote  affinity  to  the 
great  Being  who  wields  the  waters  in  the  palms 
of  his  hands,  whose  nod  makes  the  solid  earth  to 
tremble  like  the  aspen-leaf,  whose  voice  is  heard 
in  the  silent  sublimity  of  speechless  nature,  and 
whose  will  is  the  soul  of  the  universe.  Colonel 
Dangerfield  and  his  wife  sat  silently  contemplat- 
ing the  scene,  with  the  hands  of  little  Virginia  and 
her  brother  Leonard  locked  in  their  own.  There 
was  not  room  for  such  a  selfish  thing  as  fear, 
though  the  turbulent  force  of  the  waters  and  the 
critical  situation  of  the  boats  might  seem  to  war- 
rant the  most  piercing  apprehension.  But  the 
sentiment  was  awe,  not  fear  ;  and  the  deportment 
of  the  elder  was  marked  by  a  sublime  self-posses- 
sion, while  that  of  the  young  pair  exhibited  silent 
wonder.  They  looked  up  in  the  faces  .of  their 
parents,  and  there  saw  nothing  to  excite  their  ap- 
prehensions. 


80  WESTWARD   HO! 

It  was  while  hurrying  down  the  river  in  this 
manner  that  they  passed  the  first  village  they  had 
seen  since  leaving  Pittsburg.  It  was  situated  at 
the  junction  of  another  large  river  with  the  Ohio, 
and  on  a  plain  about  forty  feet  above  the  level  of 
the  ordinary  tide.  It  was  now  standing  in  the 
midst  of  a  waste  of  waters,  the  upper  stories  and 
chimneys  of  the  houses  alone  visible.  Boats  ap- 
peared passing  and  repassing  from  the  higher 
grounds,  which  as  yet  had  escaped  the  inundation, 
to  the  drowned  village,  rescuing  women  and  chil- 
dren from  their  perilous  situation,  whose  cries  were 
lost  in  the  uprpar  of  the  mighty  waters,  or  bearing 
away  some  of  the  most  valuable  or  accessible  of 
their  furniture.  Sometimes,  by  taking  advantage 
of  the  eddying  whirlpools,  they  succeeded  in  the 
attempt,  and  returned  in  safety ;  but,  at  others, 
the  sweeping  current  would  take  and  whirl  them 
away  down  the  river  with  irresistible  force. 

"  Cannot  we  assist  them,  captain  ?"  asked  Colo- 
nel Dangerfield. 

'  No,  colonel ;  no  stopping  now  for  trifles.  We 
must  make  a  straight  wake  behind  us ;  for  if  the 
horn  gets  broadside  to  the  current,  I  wouldn't  risk 
a  huckleberry  to  a  persimmon  that  we  don't  every 
soul  get  treed,  and  sink  to  the  bottom  like  gone 
suckers." 

A  large  portion  of  this  metaphorical  speech  was 
incomprehensible  to  the  colonel,  as  it  will  be  prob- 
ably to  a  majority  of  our  readers.  But  we  trust 
our  work  will  not  be  the  worse  'for  a  little  mystifi- 
cation of  language,  seeing  we  deal  in  no  other 
obscurities. 

On  the  evening  of  the  sixth  day  the  voyagers 
found  a  harbour  in  a  deep  indenture  of  the  river, 
where  they  came  to,  under  the  brow  of  a  hill  which 


WESTWARD   HO1.  81 

in  common  times  was  some  distance  inland.  Here 
they  met  a  number  of  boats  from  various  parts  of 
the  great  Valley  of  the  Mississippi,  which  had 
taken  shelter  from  the  increasing  fury  of  the  inun- 
dation, and  were  waiting  till  it  subsided  a  little. 
A  merrier  set  of  rogues  never  congregated  toge- 
ther, nor  is  it  possible  to  describe  the  medley  of 
characters  and  amusements  exhibited  in  this  out- 
of-the-way  comer  of  the  earth.  Fiddling  and 
dancing,  gambling  and  tippling,  contests  of  wit 
and  contests  of  activity,  strength,  and  bottom; 
trials  of  skill  in  shooting  at  a  mark,  and  every 
wild  and  wayward  eccentricity  which  animal 
spirits,  freed  from  all  restraint  of  fashion,  custom, 
or  prescription,  could  devise,  were  all  displayed 
here  with  a  degree  of  rank  primitive  luxuriance, 
such  as  the  same  race  of  man  never  exhibits  but 
once  in  the  course  of  its  progress  from  the  infancy 
of  society  to  the  period  of  final  corruption  and  de- 
cay. They  seemed  to  think  that  custom  was 
often  little  better  than  a  reverend  error,  or,  at  all 
events,  that  new  situations  authorized  new  modes 
of  enjoyment. 

In  some  boats  were  pigs,  sheep,  bacon,  flour, 
&c.,  for  New  Orleans ;  in  others  cargoes  of 
two  legged  live  stock,  going  to  settle  at  Bois 
Brule,  or  Bob  Ruly  as  they  called  it ;  in  others 
boards  and  plank  ;  in  others  cider  and  whiskey  ; 
in  others  Yankee  notions  of  all  kinds.  Each 
had  a  pole  sticking  up,  on  which,  instead  of  a 
sign,  he  had  suspended  a  sample  of  his  wares, 
provided  they  were  amenable  to  such  a  display, 
and  a  complete  fair  was  carried  on  for  the  time 
they  remained  together.  Most  of  the  boats  had 
a  fiddle  on  board,  for  these  people  delight  in  danc- 
ing and  music ;  and  in  one  of  them  was  the  Rev- 

D3 


82  WESTWARD   IIO! 

erend  Lazarus  Snortgrace,  whose  voice,  as  lie  ex- 
horted these  frolicksome  sinners  to  repentance, 
towered  above  the  uproar  of  obstreperous  merri- 
ment which  echoed  through  these  vast  solitudes. 
He  called  himself-  one  of  the  ram's  horns  which 
blew  down  the  walls  of  Jericho,  and  not  without 
special  reason,  for  his  lungs  were  of  leather,  and 
his  breath  inexhaustible.  But  the  greatest  curi- 
osity of  this  miscellaneous  assemblage  was  a 
wight  from  New-England,  whose  boat  contained 
a  complete  establishment  for  the  shoeing  of  horses 
in  all  its  branches.  He  was  on  a  trading  voyage 
as  far  down  as  New  Orleans,  and  good  luck  be- 
friend him  say  we,  for  the  originality  of  his  enter- 
prise merits  not  only  fortune  but  immortality. 

After  waiting  here  a  few  days,  the  waters  hav- 
ing sufficiently  spent  their  force  to  render  the 
navigation  safe,  the  cavalcade  of  boats  prepared 
to  depart  on  their  several  ways.  Some  for  the 
east,  some  for  the  west,  some  for  the  north,  and 
some  for  the  south.  They  belonged  many  of 
them  to  places  thousands  of  miles  apart ;  they 
had  met  here  by  accident,  and  the  chances  were  a 
hundred  to  one  that  they  would  never  meet  again. 
At  the  signal  of  the  blowing  of  the  trumpets, 
which  echoed  among  the  recesses  of  the  hills, 
they  set  forth,  and  soon  were  floating  down  to- 
wards the  junction  of  the  Ohio  and  the  Mississippi. 
These  trumpets  at  the  time  we  speak  of  were  of 
wood,  and  the  tones  might  be  mistaken  for  those 
of  a  French  horn,  so  soft,  so  mellow  in  the  dis- 
tance, that  we  have  sometimes  been  wrought 
almost  to  shed  tears,  at  hearing  them  vibrating  of 
a  summer  evening  among  the  hills.  They  are 
used  not  only  as  signals,  but  for  the  purpose  of 
ascertaining  the  position  of  the  boats  .in.  those 


WESTWARD   HO!  83 

dense  fogs,  which  at  certain  seasons  are  so  im- 
penetrable, that  Captain  Sam  Hugg  swore  a  most 
original  and  humorous  oath,  that  he  had  turned 
the  edge  of  a  razor  in  attempting  to  cut  through 
one  of  them.  True  it  is,  as  he  affirmed  "  It  was 
a  bloody  Yankee  razor,  and  not  to  be  wondered 
at."  The  sound  is  echoed  from  the  bank  of  the 
river,  and  the  time  which  elapses  indicates  to 
these  shrewd  observers  the  distance  from  shore. 
Thus  Echo,  in  addition  to  her  other  attributes, 
may  justly  claim  the  appellation  of  the  Goddess 
of  the  Mississippi  Navigators. 

At  the  point  of  junction  between  the  Ohio  and 
Kentucky  rivers,  the  fleet  of  boats  separated ;  the 
colonel  and  his  party  proceeding  up  the  latter  to 
their  destined  home,  and  the  others  down  the 
former  stream,  the  Lord  knows  where.  And  now 
began  the  severe  toils  of  the  boatmen.  The 
stream  was  rapid,  and  the  difficulties  of  ascent  in- 
surmountable to  all  human  skill  and  perseverance 
save  that  of  a  Kentucky  boatman,  who  everybody 
knows  is  amphibious,  "  half  horse,  half  alligator." 
They  placed  their  shoulders  against  the  long 
poles,  one  end  of  which  was  loaded  with  iron,  and 
making  what  was  called  a  "  reverend  set,"  walked 
steadily  to  the  stern  of  the  broad-horn,  propelling 
her  forward  at  the  same  time.  Sometimes  this 
course  was  impracticable  from  the  depth  or  rapidity 
of  the  current,  and  then  came  the  tug  of  war.  A 
rope  was  taken  ashore,  and  fastened  to  a  rock,  or 
stump,  or  sapling,  and  by  this  the  boat  was 
dragged  along.  This  process  is  called  cordelleing, 
and  it  is  inexpressibly  slow,  tedious,  and  laborious. 
More  than  once  they  came  to  a  place,  where, 
owing  to  a  sudden  angle  of  the  river,  or  the  pro- 
jecting of  some  obstacle  from  the  shore,  they  met 


84  WESTWARD    HO! 

a  current  of  such  irresistible  force  as  to  wheel 
them  entirely  round,  and  send  them  down  the 
stream  several  hundred  yards. 

Nothing  could  surpass  the  sad  solitude  of 
their  voyage.  The  river  pursued  its  course  for 
the  most  part  through  a  channel  worn  out  of  the 
limestone  rock,  perpendicular  on  either  side,  and 
so  deep  that  except  at  midday  the  sun  never  shone 
on  the  dark  waters.  The  gloom  was  increased 
by  vast  trees  growing  on  the  summit  of  the 
rocks,  and  whose  branches  overshadowed  the 
abyss.  Emerging  at  length  from  this  twilight 
cavern,  they  came  to  a  spot  where  the  strata 
of  rocks  disappeared,  and  a  paradise  of  na- 
ture opened  to  their  view.  It  was  an  open 
forest  of  gigantic  trees,  occupying  a  rich  level 
which  extended  a  considerable  distance  on  the 
river.  No  underwood  grew  upon  these  shady 
meadows,  and  the  whole  was  one  carpet  of  blos- 
soms opening  to  the  spring  air. 

"  Here  is  the  spot,"  said  Bushfield,  and  so  it 
was,  as  the  colonel  found  on  looking  at  his  map 
and  survey. 

"  I'm  glad  on't,"  quoth  Captain  Hugg,  "  fdr  I'll 
be  shot  by  an  Ingen,  if  this  isn't  worse  than  cor- 
delleing  round  the  old  sycamore." 

The  turn  of  the  river  had  made  a  harbour 
for  boats,  and  here  they  came  to,  landed  their  car- 
goes, and  without  delaying  a  moment,  proceeded 
under  the  direction  of  Bushfield  to  erect  tents  and 
other  temporary  shelters  for  the  party.  The  day 
was  spent  at  these  occupations,  in  which  the  boat- 
men willingly  assisted,  and  in  which  Mr.  Little- 
John  distinguished  himself  by  being  particularly 
in  the  way,  or,  as  Captain  Sam  said,  "  By  always 
rowing  up  stream  instead  of  down." 


WESTWARD    HO!  85 

"Well,  colonel,"  said  that  worthy,  the  next 
morning,  "you're  all  comfortably  settled  now, 
and  I  think  I'll  let  go  the  willows,  and  make 
tracks  for  Bob  Ruly,  where  I  belong  ;  so  good-by 
to  you,  and  may  you  never  want  plenty  of  deer, 
wild  turkeys,  and  whiskey." 

The  colonel  paid  his  fare,  and  gave  him  a 
liberal  present  besides,  whereat  the  captain  was  so 
exalted,  that  he  swore  there  was  no  backing  out 
in  him,  "  he  was  a  real  screamer  of  a  feller." 

The  amphibious  men  now  departed,  and  float- 
ing down  the  stream  to  the  music  of  Cherub 
Spooney 's  favourite  air  of  "  The  Owl  that  died  of 
the  Whooping-cough,"  disappeared  in  a  turn  of 
the  river.  As  the  echoes  of  their  wooden  trumpet 
gradually  died  away,  our  travellers  felt  that  the 
last  link  which  bound  them  to  the  distant  world 
was  severed,  8 


WESTWARD  HO! 


CHAPTER  X. 

"  Now  the  log  hut,  erst  haunt  of  sturdy  men* 
Degenerate  lot !  becomes  the  porker's  pen ; 
While  stately  houses  rise  on  every  side, 
The  good  man's  comfort,  and  the  good  dame's  pride ; 
To  cultivated  fields  the  forest  chang'd, 
And  where  the  wild  beasts,  now  the  tame  ones  rang'd ; 
The  curling  smoke  amid  the  woods  was  seen  ; 
The  village  church  now  whiten'd  on  the  green, 
And  by  its  side  arose  the  little  school, 
Where  rod  and  reason  lusty  urchins  rule, 
Whose  loud-repeated  lessons  might  be  heard, 
Whene'er  along  the  road  a  wight  appear'd." 

OUR  intention  is  not  to  detail  the  particulars  of 
that  struggle  which,  in  these  rugged  regions  of 
nature's  empire,  ever  takes  place  between  the  pa- 
tient industry  of  man  and  her  wild  luxuriance  ; 
nor  to  trace  the  progress  of  a  new  settlement,  from 
the  first  wound  given  to  the  primeval  forest,  to  the 
golden  harvest-field ;  from  the  rude  log-cabin,  to 
the  stately  double  house,  and  all  its  ambitions  ac- 
companiments ;  which  change,  in  the  figurative 
style  of  the  west,  is  yclept  "  throwing  off  the  moc- 
casins." Suffice  it  to  say,  that  the  traveller  who 
some  ten  years  after  the  sound  of  the  first  axe  was 
heard  in  these  woods  chanced  to  visit  it,  would 
have  been  charmed  with  the  little  settlement  of 
Colonel  Dangerfield,  its  rural  beauties,  and  its  air 
of  rustic  opulence.  The  smoke  rising  above  the 
tall  trees,  the  barking  of  dogs,  the  crowing  of 
cocks,  the  tinkling  of  bells,  the  strokes  of  the 
woodman's  axe;  the  crash  of  the  falling  tree,  and 


WESTWARD   HO!  87 

"!    ! 

the  long  echoes  of  the  hunter's  gun  would  an- 
nounce to  him  that  he  was  coming  to  the  abodes 
of  civilized  men.  He  would  behold  a  village  ris- 
ing in  the  midst  of  crystal  springs,  bursting  from 
the  sides  of  little  knolls,  or  from  under  hoary- 
rocks  ;  fields  of  grain  springing  up  with  a  luxuri- 
ance that  returned  to  the  labourer  a  hundredfold, 
enclosed  by  log  fences,  and  bristling  with  girdled 
trees  towering  to  the  skies.  Orchards  loaded  with 
fruits,  gardens  full  of  vegetables  and  flowers,  would 
next  greet  him  on  the  spot  which  a  few  years  be- 
fore was  the  abode  of  the  buffalo  and  wild  deer, 
the  hunting-ground  of  the  Indian  ;  and  he  might 
say  to  himself,  "  What  are  all  the  temporary  pri- 
vations and  sufferings  of  a  few  short  years  in  the 
wilderness,  ending  in  rural  happiness  like  this, 
compared  to  debts  and  poverty,  degradation  and 
dependence?  The  enterprising  emigrant  who 
comes  hither  with  a  few  hundred  dollars,  or  per- 
haps with  nothing  but  a  strong  arm  and  a  strong 
heart,  soon  gains  independence  for  himself  and 
his  children.  In  the  crowded  haunts  of  men  his 
genius  has  no  room  to  exert  itself;  he  is  el- 
bowed aside  by  those  who  are  on  the  march 
before  him,  or  who  have  already  gained  possession 
of  advantages  of  which  he  cannot  partake.  But 
here  he  has  elbow-room,  and  here  it  is  that  spirit 
and  enterprise  find  their  appropriate  world." 

Such,  or  something  like  them,  were  in  reality 
the  reflections  of  a  traveller  who,  one  fine  spring 
afternoon,  when  the  twilight  was  lending  its  mel- 
low lustre  to  the  smiling  landscape,  rode  into  the 
town  of  Dangerfieldville,  a  formidable  name  assu- 
redly ;  but  the  colonel  had  followed  the  fashion 
of  the  west,  where,  if  a  man  has  a  name  as  long 
as  that  of  Aldibirontiphoskiphornio,  it  goes  hard 


88  WESTWARD   HO! 

but  he  will  tack  a  ville  to  its  tail  when  he  lays 
the  foundation  of  a  city  which  is  to  become  the 
great  mart  of  the  western  world.  The  young 
man  bestrode  a  blooded  horse,  which  is  indispensa- 
ble in  Kentucky  to  the  character  of  a  gentleman, 
and  which  horse  carried  a  portmanteau  seemingly 
well  rilled  with  "plunder,"  on  which  was  strapped 
a  brown  camlet  cloak  with  a  purple  velvet  cape, — 
we  like  to  be  particular  in  these  matters,  in  imita- 
tion of  our  betters, — and  which  brown  camlet 
cloak  with  a  purple  velvet  cape  was  surmounted 
by  a  blue,  or  perhaps  it  might  have  been  a  green, 
silk  umbrella,  on  which  was  written  in  black  ink 
the  name  of  Dudley  Rainsford,  which  we  will  ven 
ture  to  suggest  might  peradventure  have  been 
that  of  the  traveller  himself.  He  wore  a  gray 
frock,  with  covered  buttons,  and  buttoned  with  a 
single  button,  the  fourth  from  the  bottom ;  a  single- 
breasted  vest  of  buff  Marseilles,  with  two  pockets, 
probably  to  carry  his  money  in ;  a  pair  of  white 
drilling  pantaloons,  with  a  spot  of  ink  on  the  left 
leg,  a  little  below  the  knee  ;  and  a  pair  of  boots, 
the  toes  of  which  were  as  wide  as  a  broad-horn, 
and  which,  to  the  best  of  our  knowledge  and  be- 
lief, were  right  and  left. 

i  His  horse,  which  seemed  almost  worn  out  with 
the  day's  journey,  was  an  iron-gray,  about  fifteen 
hands  high,  with  a  star  of  five  points  in  his  fore- 
head, three  black  feet,  and  one  white  one,  which, 
if  we  mistake  not,  make  four.  He  had  two  ears, 
one  on  the  right,  the  other  on  the  left  side  of  his 
head ;  a  pair  of  nostrils,  one  close  by  the  other, 
and  looking  for  all  the  world  like  twins ;  a  white 
mane  hanging  on  the  right  side  of  his  neck ;  and 
two  eyes,  which  looked  exactly  as  if  he  could  see 
out  of  them,  Just  below  his  right  ear  was  a  spot 


WESTWARD   HO!  89 

of  hair  rather  inclining  to  white,  which  might  or 
might  not  be  occasioned  by  some  unaccountable 
cause ;  and,  from  his  slavering  a  little  at  the 
mouth,  it  might  be  predicated  of  him  that  he  had 
been  eating  too  heartily  of  red  clover.  He  was 
guided  by  a  snaffle-bridle  with  a  plated  bit,  neither 
very  new  nor  very  old ;  and  his  saddle  was 
wrought  of  the  skin  of  a  pig.  We  hope  the  reader 
will  not  be  out  of  patience  with  this  particular 
inventory  of  goods,  chattels,  accoutrements,  &c. 
(fee.  &c.  This  traveller  is  destined  to  be  the  hero 
of  our  tale  ;  and  he  must  be  but  an  illiterate' per- 
son who  doth  not  know  the  fashion  of  the  times 
requires  that  a  hero  should  be  delineated  with  the 
same  minute  particularity  with  which  we  describe 
a  stolen  horse,  an  absconding  swindler,  or  a  run- 
away negro  in  an  advertisement. 

Mr.  Rainsford  was  slowly  passing  a  large  man- 
sion, with  a  piazza,  from  one  end  to  the  other,  and 
bearing  marks  of  opulence  as  well  as  taste,  when  he 
was  accosted  by  a  voice  as  follows,  in  a  tone  of 
good-humoured  banter, — 

"  Hullo  !  I  say,  stranger,  did  you  ever  happen 
to  see  a  snail  in  your  travels  ?" 

K I  rather  suspect  I  have,"  replied  the  stranger, 
stopping  his  tired  horse  ;  "  what  then  ?" 

"  Why,  then,  I  reckon  you  must  have  met  him ; 
for  you  never  could  have  overtook  him  at  that 
rate,  any  how." 

The  stranger  again  pricked  his  horse  into  a 
walk,  when  the  man  of  the  long  piazza  called 
•-wit,—  * 

"  Hullo  !  stranger,  you're  barking  up  the  wrong 
tree  ;  .what  business  have  you  to  pass  this  house?" 

"  What's  that  to  you  T  replied  Mr.  Rainsford, 
rather  in  a  huff  at  being  so  unceremoniously  in- 


90  WESTWARD   HO! 

terrogated,  and  presuming  this  was  some  impor- 
tunate innkeeper  who  wanted  his  custom. 

"  I'll  tell  you  directly,  stranger ;  but,  first  and 
foremost,  let  me  ask  if  you  ant  rather  fresh  in 
these  parts  ;  for  I  can  see  with  half  an  eye  you 
don't  understand  trap." 

"  Trap  !  I  won't  be  trapped  by  you,  I  promise 
you." 

"You  won't,  eh? — we'll  see  that  directly,  I 
reckon.  Colonel,"  said  he,  calling,  to  some  one 
within,  "colonel,  I  believe  here's  an  unaccount- 
able sort  of  character,  for  he  seems  afraid  to 
stop  at  a  gentleman's  house  when  invited  in  a  civil 
way.  Come  out,  and  put  the  grace  of  our  Lord 
upon  him,  for  you  know  you're  a  justice  of  peace." 

This  address  was  followed  by  the  appearance 
of  a  gentleman  rather  beyond  the  middle  age, 
whom  we  shall  not  describe,  because  we  hope  the 
reader  will  recognise  him  at  the  first  glance  as  his 
old  acquaintance,  Colonel  Dangerfield.  He  ac- 
costed the  traveller  politely,  and  apologized  for  the 
detention  of  his  friend  Bushfield. 

"  I  believe  you  don't  know  the  custom  of  this 
village, — I  may  say  of  the  whole  country.  No 
traveller  passes  this  or  any  other  house  without 
stopping,  unless  he  can  give  a  good  and  sufficient 
reason  for  such  a  gross  piece  of  neglect." 

"  I  wish  to  find  an  inn,  sir ;  can  you  direct  me 
to  one  ?" 

"  Whew  !"  cried  Bushfield  ;  "an  inn  ! — wny, 
every  house  is  an  inn  here,  except  that  the  land- 
lord don't  charge  ally  thing  to  his  customers.  I 
say,  stranger,  where  did  you  come  from,  that  you 
expect  to  find  taverns  here  in  Old  Kentuck?" 

"  You  will  alight,  and  spend  the  night  here,  sir, 
if  you  please,"  said  Colonel  Dangerfield  j  "  I  shall 


WESTWARD   HO1.  91 

be  proud  to  receive  you,  and  you  will  find  no 
public-house  within  a  hundred  miles  of  this  in  the 
direction  you  are  going." 

"  My  good  sir,  1  cannot  think  of  imposing  on 
your  hospitality.  I  was  recommended  here  as  to 
a  place  where  I  could  purchase  a  good  tract  of 
land  at  a  reasonable  price  ^  for  I  design  to  settle 
in  this  country  if  I  can  be  suited,  and  was  looking 
out  for  an  inn  when  this  gentleman  accosted  me/' 

"  Another  new  settler  !"  grumbled  Bushfield ; 
"  the  country  will  soon  be  as  full  of  people  as  a 
prairie  is  of  wolves  ;  there'll  be  no  such  thing  as 
turning  round  in  it  without  hitting  some  feller's 
elbow.  I  must  cut  dirt  soon  for  some  place  where 
there's  more  room." 

The  colonel  repeated  his  invitation  with  such  a 
frank  cordiality,  that  the  stranger  at  length,  on 
being  satisfied  that  there  was  no  place  of  public 
entertainment  in  the  village,  accepted  it,  and, 
alighting  from  his  horse,  was  ushered  into  a  large 
room  plainly  yet  comfortably  furnished,  and  oc- 
cupied by  several  persons  of  both  sexes. 

"  A  stranger,"  said  Colonel  Dangerfield. 

'•  My  name  is  Rainsford." 

"  O,  never  mind,  sir ;  the  name  of  stranger  is 
enough  for  us." 

"Why,  where  was  this  genius  raised?"  said 
Bushfield  to  himself;  "  a  wild  turkey  would  know 
better.  Whenever  a  man  goes  to  tell  me  his 
name  when  he  enters  my  house,  I  calculate  he 
thinks  I  suspect  him  of  being  a  horse-stealer." 

The  company  rose  when  the  stranger  was  in- 
troduced, and  the  colonel  presented  him  to  his 
wife,  who  was  still  a  comely  and  genteel  matron, 
for  the  feeling  of  good  breeding  is  independent  of 
the  mere  forms  of  fashion ;  to  his  son  Leonard, 


92  WESTWARD   HO1. 

now  a  tall,  straight,  noble-looking  youth ;  and  to 
his  daughter  Virginia,  now  grown  to  the  full  size 
of  graceful  womanhood ;  not  forgetting  also  Mr. 
Ulysses  Littlejohn,  who  on  the  entrance  of  Rains- 
ford  had  risen  from  three  chairs,  on  one  of  which 
he  sat,  on  another  reclined  his  arm,  and  on  the 
third  supported  his  left  leg,  after  the  fashion  of 
Old  Virginia,  the  mother  of  presidents,  and  the 
parent  of  a  mighty  state. 

"  And  so,"  said  Colonel  Dangerfield,  after  a  few 
preliminary  compliments,  "  you  are  looking  for  a 
settlement  somewhere  in  this  part  of  the  country?" 

"  I  came  with  an  intention  of  residing  in  it,  cer- 
tainly ;  but  I  fear  I  am  riot  qualified  for  a  farmer." 

"  Can  you  cut  down  a  tree  as  big  round  as  all 
out  doors  in  less  time  than  you  can  look  at  it  ?" 
asked  Bushfield. 

"  I  fear  not,"  said  the  other,  smiling  ;  "  I  never 
attempted  to  handle  an  axe  but  once  that  I  recol- 
lect, and  then  I  almost  cut  off  my  toe." 

"  Ah !  you  won't  do  here,  unless  maybe  you 
can  trail  a  deer,  and  shoot  a  bear  in  a  cane-brake 
so  thick  that  a  mustard-seed  shot  couldn't  find  the 
way  through  it  without  grazing  the  bark." 

"  I  can  do  neither  of  these  things ;  but  perhaps 
I  can  learn." 

"  Learn  !  you  are  too  old  for  that,  stranger.  A 
man  must  begin  with  the  eggshell  on  him,  as  the 
partridges  learn  to  run,  and  get  up  before  day- 
light many  a  year  in  and  year  out,  before  he  can 
get  to  be  worth  much — I  mean  in  the  way  of  liv- 
ing in  these  parts." 

"I  have  not  been  accustomed  to  such  enter- 
prises, nor  can  I  perform  such  feats,"  said  the 
young  traveller. 

"  Then  what  in  the  name  of  old  Daniel  Boone 


VESTWARD  HO!  93 

brought  you  here,  stranger?"  said  Bushfield, 
bluntly. 

"  I  scarcely  know  myself,"  said  the  stranger ; 
and  Virginia,  who  happened  to  be  looking  at  him 
at  the  moment,  saw  a  cloud  pass  over  his  face,  and 
detected  a  long-drawn  sigh. 

Tea  was  now  brought  in  as  a  treat  to  the 
stranger,  and  the  conversation  took  another  turn. 

O         7 


94  WESTWARD   HO! 


CHAPTER  XI. 

A  short  Retrospect. 

NINE  years — the  number  of  the  Muses,  and 
doubtless  for  that  reason  selected  by  Horace  as 
the  period  during  which  every  discreet  author 
ought  to  keep  his  piece  in  reserve  before  he  ven- 
tures to  give  it  to  the  world, — a  precept  to  which 
we  ourselves  have  paid  particular  attention  in  re- 
spect to  this  work, — nine  years  had  elapsed  since 
Colonel  Dangerfield  had  first  pitched  his  tent  in 
the  wilderness.  In  that  time,  such  is  the  magic 
of  industry  and  enterprise  directed  by  the  arts 
of  civilized  life,  a  complete  change  had  been 
in  rapid  progress,  from  the  wild  luxuriance  of  na- 
ture to  the  rich  redundant  blessings  of  cultivated 
fields  and  comfortable  abodes,  the  plainness  of 
whose  outsides  was  gloriously  contrasted  by  the 
liberal  hospitality  within.  The  first  year  of  his 
arrival  he  was  only  the  lord  of  a  wilderness,  the 
possession  of  which  was  disputed  equally  by  the 
wild  animals  and  the  red  men  who  hunted  them. 
By  degrees,  however,  the  former  had  become  more 
rare,  and  the  latter  had  receded  before  the  irre- 
sistible influence  of  the  "  wise  white  man,"  who, 
wheresoever  he  goes,  to  whatever  region  of  the 
earth,  whether  east  or  west,  north  or  south,  car- 
ries with  him  his  destiny,  which  is  to  civilize  the 
world,  and  rule  it  afterwards. 

While  the  grain  was  growing  luxuriantly  in 
the  fields,  and  the  flowers  beginning  to  bloom  in 


WESTWARD   HO!  95 

the  garden  of  Colonel  Dangerfield,  another  and  a 
fairer  flower  was  expanding  into  rich  maturity 
within  his  walls.  Little  Virginia  was  now  a  tall 
girl,  straight  as  one  of  the  high  trees  of  the  west- 
ern forests,  though  not  quite  so  lofty,  and  graceful 
as  an  Indian  maid.  She  had  never  seen  a  supe- 
rior, nor  ever  felt  the  miserable  consciousness  of 
inferiority,  which  is  the  parent  of  that  affectation 
which  destroys  all  grace  of  motion  and  action,  and 
takes  away  the  dignity  of  self-possession.  A  per- 
son conscious  of  equality  with  all  around  will 
seldom,  if  ever,  be  awkward,  embarrassed,  or  un- 
graceful. 

Virginia  was  the  only  daughter  of  the  patron, 
the  head  of  the  settlement,  and  by  far  the  most 
wealthy  man  within  a  circuit  of  a  hundred  miles. 
The  vast  tract  of  land,  for  which  he  had  given  a 
few  shillings  an  acre,  had  increased  in  value 
almost  a  hundredfold,  and  the  owner  of  Powhatan 
was  now  the  proprietor  of  half  a  dozen  townships. 
There  was  something,  too,  in  the  character  and 
services  of  Colonel  Dangerfield  which,  independ- 
ently of  his  wealth,  drew  on  him  the  regard  and 
respect  of  the  settlers  in  this  region.  He  had  been 
their  leader  in  more  than  one  of  those  Indian 
wars  which  preceded  the  last  expiring  efforts  of 
the  kings  of  the  woods,  and  which  gave  to  the 
now  fertile  fields  of  Kentucky  the  poetical  name 
of  "the  dark  and  bloody  ground."  Under  the 
tuition  of  Bushfield,  who  still  lived,  notwithstand- 
ing his  hair-breadth  escapes  if  we  had  leisure  to 
record  them  would  baffle  all  the  creations  of  the 
wildest  fancy,  he  had  become  an  expert  and  enter- 
prising woodland  warrior  ;  and  the  former  indo- 
lence of  his  character  had  been  strengthened  and 
invigorated  by  the  presence  of  eternal  dangers,  as 


9G  WESTWARD   HO! 

well  as  the  necessity  of  perpetual  exertion.  Yet 
still,  with  all  these  claims  to  distinction,  which 
were  acknowledged  with  gratitude,  there  was  iu 
almost  every  respect  a  perfect  equality  in  social 
intercourse  between  the  different  members  of  the 
little  community.  Any  airs  of  superiority  on  the 
part  of  the  colonel  and  his  family  would  have 
been  met  by  a  prompt  denial  of  their  claims  ;-  for 
they  had  shared  dangers,  privations,  and  suffer- 
ings together,  and  these  vicissitudes  had  made 
all  equal.  There  was  no  distinction  but  that 
of  the  honest  man  and  the  rogue,  the  brave 
man  and  the  coward.  In  no  situation,  indeed,  do 
we  feel  the  necessity  of  that  union  of  honest  men, 
which  is  the  beau  ideal  of  the  social  system,  so 
much  as  in  one  of  these  parent  settlements,  which 
the  arm  of  justice  and  the  restraints  of  the  laws 
have  not  yet  been  able  to  reach. 

Such  a  state  of  existence  at  once  entails  the  ne- 
cessity of  an  association  among  the  honest  por- 
tion of  the  community  for  the  defence  of  their 
rights  and  the  punishment  of  aggressors.  Hence 
originated  the  institution  called  the  Regulators, 
formerly  common  on  the  remote  frontiers,  where 
the  influence  of  the  general  government  was  not 
felt,  and  where  there  were  as  yet  no  local  authori- 
ties. These  were  a  body  of  the  principal  settlers, 
who  combined  for  the  purposes  of  self-defence, 
and  who  became  of  necessity  both  the  judges  and 
the  executors  of  the  forest  laws.  Horse-stealing 
was  the  great  crime  in  those  days,  and  when  an 
occurrence  of  this  kind  took  place  the  Regulators  . 
set  out  in  pursuit ;  and  prompt  and  severe  was 
the  punishment  inflicted  on  the  culprit.  These 
associations,  so  indispensable  in  a  region  without 
laws  or  magistrates,  have  been  distorted  by  igno- 


WESTWARD    HO!  97 

rant,  or  prejudiced,  or  malicious  writers  into 
bands  of  desperate  outlaws,  congregated  for  the 
purpose  of  levying  black-mail,  committing  the 
most  wanton  outrages,  and  violating  in  fact  all 
those  rights  which  it  was  the  first  and  only  object 
to  defend.  Without  doubt,  these  conservators  of 
the  peace  and  property  of  the  honest  and  indus- 
trious sometimes  exceeded  the  measure  of  justice, 
as  it  might  have  been  safely  administered  in  a 
regularly  organized  community ;  but  it  is  obvious 
that,  without  some  such  association,  the  first  pio- 
neers of  civilization  might  have  become  impracti- 
cable and  dangerous  outlaws ;  and  it  is  equally 
obvious  that  where  neither  jails,  nor  guardhouses, 
nor  any  of  the  means  of  securing  criminals  exist, 
punishments  must  be  prompt  as  well  as  corpo- 
real. But  we  have  been  diverted  from  the  course 
of  our  story  by  a  wish  to  give  a  simple  explana- 
tion of  what  has  been  so  entirely  misrepresented. 

The  daughter  of  Colonel  Dangerfield  had  been 
brought  up  among  the  surrounding  villagers  on 
the  principle  of  perfect  equality,  in  so  far  as  to 
recognise  their  equal  claim  to  an  exchange  of  all 
the  courtesies  of  social  intercourse  ;  and  let  it  be 
recollected  they  were  not  ignorant  people,  for 
it  is  not  the  vulgar  of  our  country  that  seek 
their  fortunes  in  the  west.  It  is  the  men  of 
long  reaching  views ;  those  who  have  saga- 
city to  perceive,  talent  to  win  the  advantages 
which  such  a  course  presents,  and  fortitude  to 
incur  the  sacrifices  necessary  to  obtain  them. 
There  were  among  this  little  band  of  adventurers 
men  from  New-England,  Virginia,  and  elsewhere, 
who  had  been  educated  at  colleges,  and  carried 
diplomas  with  them  into  the  wilderness  ;  and 
there  were  women,  who,  if.  not  accomplished  in 

VOL,  i. — K  9 


98  WESTWARD   HO! 

the  arts  of  music,  painting,  or  dancing,  were  of 
as  cultivated  minds,  as  delicate  apprehensions,  as 
pure  morals  and  habits,  as  ever  figured  in  courtly 
drawing-rooms,  or  saw  themselves  in  full-length 
mirrors.  It  is  true  that  the  vicissitudes  of  a  new 
and  original  course  of  existence,  the  trials,  hard- 
ships, and  dangers  of  succeeding  generations,  and 
the  plenty  of  elbow-room  enjoyed  by  the  descend- 
ants of  these  emigrants,  have  somewhat  changed 
the  characters  of  the  men,  but  they  have  produced 
a  race  which,  take  them  all  in  all,  with  all  their 
faults  and  eccentricities,  as  physical  and  intellec- 
tual beings,  we  do  verily  believe,  are  not  to  be  sur- 
passed by  any  that  ever  existed.  There  is,  how- 
ever, a  wild  originality,  a  wayward  humour,  a 
blunt  sincerity,  a  plain-spoken  freedom,  and  an  in- 
dependence of  thought  as  well  as  action,  which  we 
have  seen  produce  most  ludicrous  effects  upon  a 
delicate  apprehensive  dandy,  or  a  self-sufficient 
gentleman  conscious  of  his  individual  importance. 
In  short,  they  are  the  last  men  in  the  world  to 
bow  to  authority  or  prescription,  in  literature, 
taste,  dress,  or  philosophy ;  and  will  just  as  readily 
demur  to  the  despotism  of  their  tailor  as  to  the 
system  of  the  universe. 

But  the  women  of  the  west,  particularly  of  Old 
Kentucky !  How  shall  we  describe  them,  and 
most  especially  our  heroine,  the  tall,  graceful,, 
mild,  tender,  independent,  high-spirited,  Virginia 
Dangerfield  ?  They  are  to  those  of  our  Atlantic 
cities,  what  the  wild  deer  is  to  the  lamb  ;  both 
gentle,  charming,  graceful,  and  of  a  most  delicate 
relish  ;  yet  one  possessing  a  character  of  peculiar 
wildness,  and  exhibiting  a  certain  air  of  careless 
grace,  the  product  of  freedom  from  restraint ;  the 
other,  sweet  to  the  eye  and  to  the  imagination 


WESTWARD   HO!  99 

too,  yet  not  quite  so  piquant,  not  quite  so — so — 
what  shall  we  say,  so  exquisitely  compounded  as 
to  distinguish  the  peculiar  charms  of  both  without 
doing  injustice  to  either  ? — not  quite  so  much  of 
the  venison  flavour.  The  free  enjoyment  of  the 
air,  and  of  exercise  on  horseback  more  especially, 
to  which  the  women  of  the  west  were  at  that 
time  so  constantly  accustomed,  seems  to  produce 
similar  effects  with  the  discipline  of  the  boarding 
school  and  the  drawing-room.  The  result  of 
each  is  a  graceful  deportment;  but  the  first  is 
most  graceful,  because  it  is  unstudied  and  free 
from  affectation  or  mannerism. 

Virginia  grew  up  in  the  pure  air  and  amid  the 
pure  springs  of  a  Kentucky  paradise,  which  every 
true  Kentuckian  will  swear  beats  every  other 
paradise  that  exists,  or  ever  did  exist,  in  this  mun- 
dane terrene.  Her  eyes  were  those  of  a  half- 
tamed  fawn,  tender  and  apprehensive,  spirited,  yet 
expressing  the  most  perfect  gentleness  of  charac- 
ter. Her  skin  was  as  transparent  as  the  fountains 
of  pure  water  out  of  which  she  drank,  and  though 
the  general  hue  of  her  face  was  pale,  it  was  de- 
lightful to  see  how  the  blood  ran  on  errands  from 
her  heart  to  her  face,  when  agitated  by  a  sudden 
impulse. 

The  state  of  the  country  at  the  time,  and  the 
disinclination  of  Mrs.  Dangerfield  to  part  with 
her  only  daughter,  had  prevented  Virginia  from 
acquiring  any  of  the  usual  accomplishments  of 
young  women  of  her  expectations  in  life ;  but 
her  mind  was  as  far  from  being  uncultivated  as 
her  manners  were  from  being  rustic.  We  have 
said  that  Mrs.  Dangerfield  was  an  accomplished 
woman,  by  which  we  meant,  of  a  cultivated  mind 
and  graceful  manners.  Music,  dancing,  and  other 
E  2 


100  WESTWARD   HO! 

accomplishments  now  so  common,  were  in  the 
days  of  her  youth  not  accessible  to  the  ladies  of 
the  United  States,  especially  those  who  resided  in 
the  country.  But  still  the  attainment  of  all  the 
truly  ladylike  embellishments,  those  which  radi- 
cally influence  the  mind  and  manners,  were  with- 
in reach  of  the  wealthy.  Mrs.  Dangerfield  had 
availed  herself  of  these,  and  was  in  all  respects 
what  we,  old  fashioned  as  we  are,  should  call  a 
perfectly  well-bred  woman. 

Her  example,  for  ever  before  Virginia,  could  not 
fail  of  being  all  powerful' in  the  formation  of  her 
manners,  for  what  magic  is  like  that  of  the  influ- 
ence of  a  kind,  attentive,  sensible,  persevering 
mother,  over  the  early  youth  of  her  children. 
She  is  the  watchful  sentinel  whose  vigilance 
never  sleeps,  never  relaxes  for  a  single  moment. 
She  sees  the  enemy  approaching  in  ambush  afar 
off,  and  sounds  the  alarum  to  each  intruding 
emissary  of  mischief.  The  latent  fault,  the  bud- 
ding passion,  the  early  wilfulness,  the  first  trans- 
gression in  morals  or  in  manners,  is  instantly 
checked  by  the  sleepless  monitor;  and  well  and 
truly  may  it  be  said,  that  not  more  surely  does  the 
child  draw  its  first  nourishment  from  the  bosom 
of  its  mother,  than  it  receives  its  first  bias  of  good 
or  evil  from  her  early  precepts  and  example. 
'  Bred  up  in  this  sequestered  spot,  at  a  distance 
from  the  great  whirlpool  of  life,  Virginia  knew 
little  of  the  world  except  that  little  portion  around 
her,  and  what  the  occasional  perusal  of  a  few 
books  afforded.  She  read  little,  but  thought  much, 
and  there  is  no  doubt  but  that  habitual  reflection 
is  a  richer  fountain  for  the  mind  than  books,  and 
contributes  far  more  to  its  strength  and  originality. 
Without  intimate  associates  of  her  own  age  and 


WESTWARD    HO  !  - 

sphere,  she  passed  much  of  her  time  alone,  and 
solitude  is  the  nurse  of  the  imagination.  Her 
spirits  were  naturally  lively,  yet  there  were  inter- 
vals when  they  subsided  into  quiet  repose,  or  sunk 
into  a  temporary  abstraction,  during  which  her 
fancy  expatiated  in  a  world  of  its  own  creation. 

Leonard  Dangerfield  was  two  years  older  than 
his  sister,  and  a  thrifty  young  sapling  with  a  little 
of  the  outside  bark  on.  He  had  been  sent  to  one 
of  the  new  colleges,  which  had  lately  sprung  up 
among  the  girdled  trees,  yclept  cities  ;  had  taken 
a  degree,  and  was  held  in  the  village  of  Danger- 
fieldville  to  be  a  whole  team  of  a  young  fellow, 
who  could  handle  a  rifle,  make  a  speech,  or  tree 
a  rackoon  with  any  he  man  that  ever  breathed 
in  all  out  of  doors. 

Master  Ulysses  Littlejohn  still  continued  his 
old  system  of  killing  time,  but  complained  sorely 
that  he  had  now  nobody  to  assist  him,  the  colonel 
being  too  much  occupied  in  his  private  and  public 
duties  to  bear  him  company.  On  his  first  coming 
to  the  wilderness  he  had  signalized  himself  greatly, 
as  he  said,  by  shooting  a  buffalo,  and  had  lived 
upon  the  glory  of  this  achievement  ever  since. 
But  there  were  some  doubts  as  to  the  accuracy 
of  his  report,  for  when  Old  Pompey  went  to  the 
spot  described  by  Ulysses  to  bring  home  the  game, 
it  had  disappeared  in  a  miraculous  manner.  The 
sage  Ducklegs  hereupon  disbelieved  the  whole 
story,  and  many  were  the  innuendoes  he  afterwards 
threw  out  on  the  subject  of  buffaloes  running 
away  after  they  had  been  shot  stone  dead,  all  of 
which,  were  received  by  Master  Littlejohn  with 
marked  disapprobation. 

"  Ducklegs,"  would  he  say,  "  you  don't  know  a 
B  from  a  buffalo's  foot," 


102  .  WESTWARD    HO! 


"Ah,  may  be  so,  Massa  Leetlejohn  ;  but  old 
nigger  know  buffalo  from  no  buffalo  for  all  dat." 

Having  renewed  the  reader's  acquaintance  with 
the  principal  personages,  we  shall  now  jog  on 
with  our  story. 


WESTWARD  HO!  103 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Chit  chat,  and  all  that. 

THE  conversation  at  the  tea-table,  around 
which  the  whole  company  were  seated  in  a  soci- 
able old-fashioned  style,  turned  on  the  project  of 
Rainsford  forming  a  settlement  in  the  township 
bordering  on  the  domains  of  Colonel  Dangerfield. 
That  gentleman  gave  him  the  benefit  of  his  ex- 
perience and  advice  on  the  subject,  and  Littlejohn 
enjoined  him  forthwith  to  lay  the  foundation  of 
a  great  city,  just  at  the  junction  of  two  streams, 
both  of  which  might  be  made  navigable  by  act  of 
congress.  But  the  stranger,  though  he  professed 
an  intention  to  establish  a  colony,  seemed  so  indif- 
ferent about  the  means,  that  Bushfield  began  to 
suspect  he  was  "playing  'possum','  that  is  to  say 
enacting  the  hypocrite,  for  some  purpose  or  other 
he  could  not  fathom. 

Colonel  Dangerfield  also  thought  it  somewhat 
singular  that  a  man  should  travel  all  the  way 
from  the  seacoast  to  settle  new  lands,  and  be'so 
indifferent  about  it.  He  threw  a  penetrating 
glance  at  the  young  man,  but  it  was  met  by  a 
countenance  so  interesting,  so  full  of  melancholy 
depression,  that  he  felt  his  heart  yearn  towards 
him,  and  every  trace  of  suspicion  vanish  from  his 
mind.  It  was  a  countenance  that  seemed  familiar 
with  sorrows  and  suffering,  full  of  anxiety,  appre- 
hension, almost  despair.  There  was  something 
in  his  voice,  too,  expressive  of  hopeless  despond- 


104  WESTWARD   HO! 

ency,  and,  when  he  spoke,  it  was  as  though  he 
little  cared  whether  to  speak  or  be  silent. 

"  You  are  fatigued,"  said  the  colonel,  "  and  don't 
seem  quite  well ;  had  you  not  better  retire,  Mr. 
Rainsford?" 

"  O,  not  at  all,  sir ;  if  you  permit  me,  I  will 
remain  till  your  usual  hour.  Though  I  have 
rode  far  to-day,  I  am  not  the  least  tired." 

And  then,  as  if  conscious  that  he  owed  his  best 
exertions  to  repay  the  hospitality  of  his  host,  he 
rallied  himself,  and  entered  into  conversation  with 
a  spirit,  intelligence,  and  occasionally  an  eloquence 
that  delighted  everybody,  most  especially  Mr. 
Bushfield,  who  pronounced  him  afterwards  to  be 
fit  for  a  congress  man,  if  he  could  only  fight  as 
well  as  he  could  talk. 

The  subject,  we  need  hardly  say,  was  politics ; 
for  we  have  heard  an  observing  old  gentleman 
affirm,  that  when  you  see  three  men  talking  to- 
gether in  the  United  States,  it  is  ten  to  one  the 
subject  is  politics,  five  to  one  religion,  and  three 
to  one  making  a  speculation.  They  were  dis- 
cussing the  matter  of  a  new  constitution,  a  species 
of  domestic  manufacture  exceedingly  common, 
when  an  old  Indian  called  the  Black  Warrior 
came  in  without  ceremony,  and  took  his  seat  in 
a  corner  of  the  room.  Some  years  previous  to 
the  time  of  which  we  are  speaking,  and  when  the 
Indians  still  carried  on  their  depredations  upon 
the  new  settlements,  the  Black  Warrior  had  been 
protected  on  some  occasion  by  Colonel  Danger- 
field  from  the  fury  of  a  party  of  white  men  who 
had  taken  him  prisoner.  When  in  process  of 
time  the  irresistible  wave  of  the  white  population 
had  scattered  the  remnants  of  the  Indian  tribes  on 
the  wings  of  the  wind,  the  Black  Warrior,  who 

E3 


WESTWARD   HO!  105 

had  become  obnoxious  to  his  people  by  his  grati- 
tude to  Colonel  Dangerfield,  preferred  remaining 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  village.  Here  the  colonel 
built  him  a  hut,  and  administered  to  his  wants  so 
far  as  was  necessary,  for  he  was  still  an  expert 
hunter,  and  he  and  Leonard  were  often  absent  a 
whole  day  together  in  the  forests,  chasing  the 
deer.  He  was  accustomed  to  come  and  go  at  the 
house  of  the  colonel  without  ceremony,  and  it  fre- 
quently happened  that  he  did  so  without  uttering 
a  single  word,  except  a  short  salutation.  At  other 
times  he  would  join  in  the  conversation  so  far  as 
a  single  remark,  or  an  assent  or  dissent.  But  he 
was  a  mail  of  few  words  and  of  imperturbable 
gravity,  as  indeed  are  all  his  kind,  so  much  so 
that  the  good  Quakers,  who  first  settled  New- 
Jersey  and  Pennsylvania,  always  called  them  the 
"  sad  people." 

It  happened  that  Bushfield,  who  was  a  man  ca- 
pable of  finding  fault  with  singular  discretion, 
was  denouncing  the  general  government  for  not 
taking  sufficient  care  to  protect  the  exposed  fron- 
tier from  the  depredations  of  the  Pottawotomies, 
the  Kickapoos,  and  other  odd-named  fellows. 

"  If  I  was  President  of  the  United  States,  I'd 
make  them  smell  brimstone  through  a  nail-hole." 

"  Eh,  good  !"  said  the  Black  Warrior,  after  wait- 
ing to  see  that  nobody  replied ;  for  the  savages  in 
this  respect  set  an  example  to  the  civilized  man  ; 
"good!  you  white  men  all  cowards." 

"  What's  that  you  say,  you  old  tan-coloured  var- 
mint T  cried  Bushfield. 

"  Let  him  say  on,"  said  the  colonel. 

"I  say,"  continued  the  Black  Warrior,  with 
perfect  coolness  and  indifference,  "I  say  you  white 
men  all  cowards.  Your  whole  government  is 


106  WESTWARD   HO! 

founded  in  cowardice.  You  give  up  your  free- 
dom of  action ;  you  fetter  yourselves  with  laws 
till  you  don't  know  which  way  to  turn,  because 
you  can't  take  care  of  yourselves  ;  you  give  away 
your  money  to  make  roads  and  bridges,  because 
you  are  afraid  to  travel  through  the  woods  and 
swim  over  rivers  ;  and  you  pay  taxes  for  soldiers 
to  come  and  protect  you.  Huh! — the  Indians 
protect  themselves  ;  they  neither  give  away  their 
money  nor  their  liberty  to  pay  other  people  for 
taking  care  of  them." 

Rainsford  was  quite  struck  with  this  new  view 
of  the  social  system,  and  entered  into  some  little 
discussion  with  the  old  natural  philosopher,  in  the 
course  of  which  he  took  occasion  to  insist  upon 
the  superior  comforts  and  conveniences  of  civil- 
ized life. 

"  Huh — yes  !"  said  the  Black  Warrior,  "  all  your 
lives  are  spent  in  slaving  to  get  things  that  we 
have  learned  to  do  without.  The  Indian  is  the 
only  true  gentleman ;  the  white  man  is  the  In- 
dian's nigger ;  he  works  to  make  guns  and  blan- 
kets for  us." 

"  Niggers  !"  cried  Bushfield,  jumping  up  in  a 
rage  ;  "  the  Kentuckians  niggers  !" 

The  old  redskin  replied  to  this  only  with  a  sig- 
nificant "  huh  !"  and,  lighting  his  pipe,  departed 
without  ceremony  to  his  hut  in  the  forest. 

"I  never  see  or  think  of  these  people  but  I 
pity  them,"  said  Rainsford. 

"  Pity  the  Ingens  !  for  what  ?"  answered  Bush- 
field,  warmly ;  "  I'll  tell  you  what,  stranger,  if  you 
had  lived  in  Old  Kentuck  as  long  as  I  have,  and 
seen  what  I  have  seen,  you'd  talk  other  guess,  I 
reckon.  When  I  first  remember  this  country, 
nobody  could  sleep  of  nights  for  fear  of  the  In- 


"WESTWARD   HO!  107 

fens,  .who  were  so  thick  you  couldn't  see  the  trees 
>r  them.  There  isn't  a  soul  in  all  Kentucky  but 
has  lost  some  one  of  his  kin  in  the  Ingen  wars, 
or  had  his  house  burnt  over  his  head  by  these 
creturs.  When  they  plough  their  fields,  they 
every  day  turn  up  the  bones  of  their  own  colour 
and  kin  who  have  been  scalped,  and  tortured,  and 
whipped,  and  starved  by  these  varmints,  that  are 
ten  thousand  times  more  bloodthirsty  than  tigers, 
and  as  cunning  as  'possums.  I,  stranger,  I  am  the 
last  of  my  family  and  name ;  the  rest  are  all  gone, 
and  not  one  of  them  died  by  the  hand  of  his 
Maker.  My  grandfather  fell  and  was  scalped  at 
Old  Chilicothe  ;  my  uncle  was  massacred  at  Rud- 
dle's Station,  after  he  had  surrendered  ;  my  father 
lost  his  life  at  the  Blue  Licks,  when  all  Kentucky 
was  in  mourning;  my  two  brothers  were  kid- 
napped when  they  were  boys,  and  never  heard  of 
afterwards  ;  and — and — my  mother  and  sister 
were  burnt  up  in  our  house,  while  all  the  men 
Were  out  to  catch  a  horse-thief,  by  a  party  of  Shaw- 
anoes.  They  barred  the  doors  and  windows,  and 
my  little  sister  loaded  the  gun,  which  my  mother 
fired  as  fast  as  she  loaded.  They  killed  two  of 
the  varmints ;  the  others  set  fire  to  the  house, 
and — and — J — s !  that  any  white  man  should  pity 
an  Ingen  here  on  '  the  dark  and  bloody  ground  !' " 
There  was  an  energy,  a  mixture  of  wild  pathos 
and  singularity  in  this  effusion  of  Bushfield  ex- 
ceedingly affecting,  and  Rainsford  could  not  help 
acknowledging,  that  to  judge  rightly  of  the  con- 
duct of  mankind  in  all  situations,  we  should  know 
the  necessity  under  which  they  laboured,  and  the 
provocations  to  which  they  were  exposed.  There 
are  none  so  virtuous  as  people  out  of  the  reach  of 
temptation,  and  none  so  forgiving  as  those  who 
have  no  motives  for  revenge.  On  retiring  to  the 


,108  WESTWARD   HO! 

room  prepared  for  his  reception,  the  young  man 
seated  himself  at  an  open  window,  and  indulged 
in  a  train  of  melancholy  reflections.  The  moon 
rode  high  in  the  heavens,  and  threw  her  mild 
lustre  over  the  quiet  scene,  interrupted  only  by 
the  distant  bowlings  of  the  wild  animals  of  the 
forest,  that  sometimes  approached  near  enough 
to  rouse  the  watchdogs,  whose  deep-mouthed 
warnings  echoed  far  and  wide.  The  lofty  girdled 
trees,  stripped  of  their  foliage,  and  bristling  the 
surrounding  fields  like  the  tall  masts  of  first  rate 
men-of-war,  gave  an  air  of  desolation  to  the  land- 
scape, which  was  bounded  at  a  distance  by  a  dark 
wall  of  gloomy  forest.  He  thought  of  the  past, 
and  it  presented  nothing  but  sad  realities ;  he 
thought  of  the  future,  and  it  furnished  only 
gloomy  forebodings.  "Better  were  it,"  thought 
he,  "  that  I  should  become  at  once,  what  I  shall  be 
ere  long,  as  sure  as  the  fate  which  has  for  three 
generations  hung  over  my  unhappy  race  will  one 
day  be  mine.  I  should  then  be  at  least  uncon- 
scious of  my  miseries  ;  but  now  the  very  antici- 
pation of  what  too  surely  I  shall  soon  be,  is  a  thou- 
sand times  worse  than  if  I  really  were  what  I  anti- 
cipate. One  year  more,  and  then — oh  !  gracious 
Providence !  what  shall  I  be  then  ?"  Uncon- 
sciously he  groaned,  in  the  agony  of  his  spirit ; 
and  Virginia,  who  was  likewise  contemplating  the 
scene  from  an  adjoining  window,  overheard  him. 
Her  curiosity  and  sympathy  were  both  equally 
excited ;  but  feeling  she  was  intruding  on  the  sor- 
rows of  a  stranger,  she  quietly  retired  to  her  re- 
pose. Yet  she  could  not  sleep  for  a  while,  and  as 
she  lay  wondering  what  might  be  the  cause  of  such 
an  expression  of  suffering,  she  could  hear  the 
stranger  pacing  to  and  fro  across  his  chamber  for 
hours. 


WESTWARD   HO!  109 


CHAPTER  XIIL 

The  sudden  departure  of  Rainsford,  and  the  mysterious 
deportment  of  Master  Zeno  Paddock. 

THE  morning  was  cheerful  and  smiling,  and 
Mr.  Rainsford  appeared  at  breakfast  apparently  in 
good  spirits  ;  but  Virginia,  who  by  some  newly- 
awakened  impulse  began  to  feel  an  interest  in  a 
young  man  who  groaned  and  walked  his  chamber 
at  night,  thought  she  saw  in  his  face  the  haggard 
emblems  of  long  suffering.  His  features  J were 
regular  and  singularly  expressive,  but  it  was  not 
altogether  a  pleasing  expression.  The  lines  of 
his  forehead  bore  the  marks  of  habitual  contrac-| 
tion ;  his  complexion  was  of  an  ashy  hue ;  his 
cheek  and  eyes  somewhat  more  sunken  than  be- 
seemed a  man  so  young ;  and  the  latter  exhibited 
a  cast  of  fearful  apprehension,  as  though  they 
were  watching  some  secret  enemy  stealing  upon 
him  unawares.  His  person  was  of  the  middle 
size;  his  limbs  well  formed;  butlhere  was  nothing 
of  the  brisk  vigour  of  youth  in  his  action,  which 
was  languid,  careless,  and  dilatory.  His  voice 
was  musical,  but  it  was  the  music  of  melancholy. 

Suspicion  is  the  product  of  experience ;  natu- 
rally, our  race  is  full  of  liberal  confidence.  In 
the  early  stages  of  society  there  is  little  temp- 
tation to  fraud,  and,  consequently,  less  occasion 
for  apprehension  ;  for  men  have  little  to  lose 
or  gain  by  it,  and  hence,  in  proportion  to  the  sim- 
plicity of  manners  and  modes  of  life  will  be  the 
13 


110  XVESTWARD   HO ! 

extent  of  confidence  and  hospitality.  Rainsford 
was  accordingly  received  unquestioned  at  the 
house  of  Colonel  Dangerfield,  not  only  because 
the  colonel  was  liberal,  but  that  in  this  sequestered 
region,  as  there  was  no  temptation  to  attract 
rogues,  so  there  had  been  no  examples  to  create 
suspicion. 

After  breakfast.  Colonel  Dangerfield  proposed 
taking  a  ride  to  view  the  lands  in  the  neighbour- 
hood. 

"  I  feel  an  interest  in  your  settling  among  us, 
and  long  to  see  you  getting  about  it.  If  you  be- 
stir yourself  manfully,  in  two  years  you  will  have 
every  thing  comfortable  about  you." 

"Two  years  !"  echoed  Rainsford,  with  a  sigh. 

"What,  are  you  so  impatient  you  can't  wait 
two  years  ?  It  is  but  a  short  time." 

"  Too  long  for  me,"  said  the  other,  apparently 
entirely  abstracted  from  the  scene  and  the  occa- 
sion. 

As  they  rode  to  the  spot  which  was  the  object 
of  their  visit,  the  colonel  spoke  of  what  was  ne- 
cessary to  be  done  in  the  first  stage  of  a  new  set- 
tlement, and  entered  on  a  variety  of  details,  such 
as  he  thought  mjght  interest  his  guest ;  but  his 
mind  seemed  to  be  wandering  to  other  subjects. 
Sometimes  he  did  not  answer  at  all,  and  at  others 
nothing  or  very  little  to  the  purpose. 

"  Stranger,"  said  Bushfield,  who  accompanied 
them  on  his  way  home,  he  not  being  a  resident  in 
the  village  of  Dangerfieldville,  "  stranger,  you 
don't  seem  on  the  track  of  what  the  colonel  says. 
But  I'll  tell  you  what,  a  man  that  comes  to  settle 
in  these  parts  must  be  wide  awake,  and  rip  and 
tear  away  like  a  horse  in  a  cane-brake.  But  some- 
how you  don't  appear  to  mind  what's  said  to  you, 


WESTWARD  HO!  Ill 

any  more  than  my  old  horse  Shavetail,  who  lost 
his  hearing  at  the  last  general  training,  they  fired 
at  such  a  rate." 

"  I  believe,  indeed,  I  was  guilty  of  the  ill  man- 
ners of  thinking  of  something  else ;  I  am  apt  to 
be  absent,"  said  Rainsford,  with  a  melancholy 
smile. 

"What !  you're  one  of  the  booky  fellers  that 
think  of  one  thing  while  they  are  talking  about 
another.  There's  an  old  varmint  at  Frankford 
Academy,  as  I  heard,  that  one  day  cut  his  fore- 
finger to  a  sharp  point  instead  of  a  pencil,  for  want 
of  thinking  what  he  was  about." 

"  What  a  beautiful  country  !"  exclaimed  Rains- 
ford,  as  they  ascended  an  eminence  which  com- 
manded a  vast  expanse  of  all  the  charming  varie- 
ties of  nature ;  forests  of  primeval  growth,  rich 
meadows,  extensive  plains,  swelling  hills  gra- 
dually rising  into  mountains,  and  little  rivers 
winding  their  way  .as  if  they  neither  knew  nor 
cared  whither  they  were  going ;  "  what  a  beau- 
tiful country  is  Kentucky !" 

" Beautiful ?— it's  transcendent!  Yes,  if  Old 
Kentucky  was  cut  off  from  all  the  rest  of  the 
earth,  she'd  be  a  world  within  herself,"  answered 
Bushfield. 

A  spot  was  selected  for  the  residence  of  Rains- 
ford  on  the  bank  of  a  little  stream  which  found 
its  way  to  the  Kentucky  River  through  a  rich 
meadow  imbosomed  in  the  hills. 

"  'Tis  a  little  paradise,"  said  he  ;  "  but  I  fear  it 
is  too  distant  from  any  other  habitation." 

"  Distant !"  cried  Bushfield,  "  not  at  all ;  why, 
you  and  I  shall  be  nigh  neighbours.  Don't  you 
see  that  blue  mountain  yonder  ?  I  live  just  on  the 
other  side,  and  it's  only  fifteen  miles  off." 


112  WESTWARD    HO! 

<  That's  rather  too  far  for  me ;  I  don't  like  to 
be  alone." 

"  Not  like  to  be  alone !  why,  where  under  the 
sun  did  you  spring  from,  stranger  ?  Now,  for  my 
part,  I  don't  want  any  other  company  than  my 
dog,  my  rifle,  and  plenty  of  game.  I  never  wish 
to  see  the  smoke  of  my  neighbour's  chimney. 
You'll  have  a  smart  chance  of  company  at  Daii- 
gerfieldville,  which  isn't  above  six  miles  off,  as  1 
should  calculate." 

After  a  few  minutes'  reflection,  Mr.  Rainsford 
assented  to  the  location  of  his  house,  observing, 
it  was  after  all,  perhaps,  of  little  consequence  where 
he  pitched  his  tent,  to  the  great  disgust  of  Bush- 
field,  who  set  him  down  in  his  own  mind  as  a 
fellow  that  hadn't  fire  enough  in  him  to  prevent 
his  being  frostbitten  in  the  dog-days. 

According  to  the  custom  of  the  backwoods,  the 
inhabitants  of  the  village  turned  out  the  next  day, 
and  before  the  sun  was  set  had  built  him  a  stately 
log  house  of  two  rooms  and  a  garret,  all  neat  and 
complete,  and  fit  for  a  king.  But  in  these  new 
countries  it  is  much  more  difficult  to  furnish  than 
to  build  a  house,  and  it  became  necessary  to  resort 
to  some  of  the  older  settlements  before  his  man- 
sion could  be  prepared  for  his  reception. 

"  You've  got  a  cage,  said  Mr.  Littlejohn,  "  and 
now  all  you  want  is  a  bird  to  sing  in  it ;"  and  he 
looked  significantly  at  the  fair  Virginia,  whose 
head  was  full  of  the  groans  and  perturbed  mid- 
w^tch  pacings  she  had  heard  the  night  before. 
The  damsel  blushed  deeply,  wjjile  a  singularly 
inexplicable  expression  passed  like  a  cloud  over 
the  face  of  the  young  man  as  he  replied, — 

"  I  fear  no  bird  will  ever  sing  in  cage  of  mine, 
except  the  screech-owl  or  the  raven," 


WESTWARD   HO!  113 

"I  shall  hear  you  sing  another  tune  before 
long.  Why,  what  will  you  do,  who  have  been 
raised  where  people  stand  as  thick  as  canes 
in  a  cane-brake,  in  a  house  all  alone  by  yourself? 
Miss  Dangerfield  shall  recommend  you  to  a  little 
bird  that  sings  like  a  Virginia  nightingale." 

"  Miss  Dangerfield  will  do  no  such  thing,"  re- 
plied Virginia,  and  left  the  room  in  a  flurry. 

Rainsford  walked  forth  to  the  house  of  one 
Zeno  Paddock,*  who  officiated  in  the  twofold 
capacity  of  schoolmaster  and  political  oracle 
to  young  and  old  of  the  village  of  Danger- 
fieldville.  His  great  ambition  was  to  set  up  a 
newspaper,  but  he  could  not  yet  bring  the  matter 
about  to  his  satisfaction.  Here  the  young  gentle- 
man staid  so  long  that  Mr.  Littlejohn  wondered 
what  he  could  have  to  say  to  that  eternal  busy- 
body, whom  he  despised  from  the  bottom  of  his 
heart,  inasmuch  as  he  was  not  content  with  attend- 
ing to  his  own  business,  which  was  bad  enough 
in  all  conscience,  but  interfered  with  that  of  all 
his  neighbours.  There  was  nothing  Ulysses 
held  so  cheap  as  a  man  who  had  a  decided  taste 

*  On  scanning  our  work  a  little  more  critically,  after  complet- 
ing the  story,  it  for  the  first  time  occurred  to  us  that  the  sketch 
of  Zeno  Paddock,  in  his  compound  character  of  schoolmaster  and 
editor,  might  possibly  be  construed  into  an  attempt  to  throw  ridi- 
cule on  these  two  classes.  We  take  this  opportunity  of  entirely 
disclaiming  any  such  purpose  ;  our  object  having  been  simply  to 
portray  a  character  from  nature,  such  as  without  doubt  has  ex- 
isted, and  we  dare  say  still  exists,  in  situations  similar  to  that  in 
which  we  have  imagined  him.  We  should  be  the  last  in  the 
world  to  attempt  weakening  the  influence  or  undermining  the 
respectability  of  two  professions  to  which  the  present  age  owes, 
and  posterity  will  owe,  more,  perhaps,  than  to  any  others  what- 
ever. Yet  still,  there  certainly  are  among  them  persons  whose 
follies  and  whose  ignorance  diminish  the  just  influence  of  the 
whole ;  and  to  ridicule  these  is  to  vindicate,  not  to  undervalue, 
those  who  are  objects  of  respect  and  consideration. 


•114  WESTWARD   HO! 

for  any  species  of  employment  except  that  of  kill- 
ing time.  Zeno  was  a  huge0evourer  of  news- 
papers, and  was  generally  found  with  one  'iiVlris 
hand  at  every  interval  of  leisure. 

One  evening,  some  ten  days  afterwards,  all 
the  family,  with  the  exception  of  Leonard,  who 
had  gone  to  the  state  capital  to  finish  the  study  of 
the  law,  was  gathered  together.  Rainsford  an- 
nounced his  intention  of  not  taking  possession  of 
his  new  establishment  until  the  ensuing  spring, 
as  he  should  not  like  to  sojourn  alone  in  the  wil- 
derness during  the  dreary  season  of  winter.  The 


guest  some  time  longer. 

Mr.  Rainsford  appeared  much  affected.  "  You 
have  been  kind,  very  kind  to  me.  A  stranger,  and 
without  the  least  claim  to  your  hospitality,  you 
have  received  and  entertained  me  as  a  son  or  a 
brother.  But — but — I  do  not  mean  to  spend  the 
winter  in  this  part  of  the  world." 

Virginia  made  a  sudden  movement  of  surprise, 
and  the  colonel  exclaimed,  "  Indeed !  I  am  sorry 
for  it." 

"  No ;  I  have  thought — I  never  was  at  New 
Orleans.  I  should  like  to  see  the  banks  of  the 
great  river  Mississippi ;  and  besides,  I  can  furnish 
myself  with  several  articles  which  I  confess  my 
house  stands  wofully  in  need  of.  I  shall  return 
early  in  the  spring,  and  then  set  myself  seriously 
to  work,  clearing  land  and  raising  corn." 

Nothing  was  said  against  this  arrangement,  and 
in  a  few  days  Rainsford  was  on  his  way  to  the 
Ohio,  whence  he  meant  to  embark  in  the  first 
convenient  conveyance  on  his  destination.  He 
took  leave  of  the  colonel  and  Mrs.  Dangerfield 


WESTWARD   HO!  115 

with  the  deepest  expressions  of  obligation ;  of 
Virginia  with  the  frankness  of  a  brother,  while 
she  parted  from  him  with  the  only  appearance  of 
affectation  she  had  ever  been  known  to  exhibit. 
She  was  in  the  highest  spirits,  and  laughed  exces- 
sively, particularly  where  there  was  no  occasion. 

"Can  I  bring  you  any  thing  from  New  Orleans  T 
said  he. 

"  Let  me  see — O  yes,  bring  me  a  parrot,  or  a 
monkey,  or  something  to  amuse  me  ;  for  really, 
Mr.  Rainsford,  I  have  been  almost  tired  to  death 
this  summer  for  want  of  agreeable  company. 
How  I  should  like  to  be  always  in  a  crowd  !" 
This  was  a  great  story. 

"  There  are  plenty  of  paroquets  in  the  woods." 

"  Yes,  but  they  are  so  dull,  they  don't  talk,  and 
what  is  a  parrot  or  a  man  that  can't  speak  ?" 

"Well,  Miss  Dangerfield,  I  shall  certainly  attend 
to  your  wishes.  I  will  endeavour  to  find  you  a 
suitable  companion  among  the  parrots  or  the 
monkeys." 

There  was  something  in  this  little  dialogue  that 
grated  harshly  on  the  feelings  of  both,  and  a 
pause  ensued,  which  lasted  until  Rainsford  was 
summoned  to  proceed  on  his  voyage  down  the 
river. 

"  Farewell,  madam,  and  farewell,  colonel,"  said 
he,  with  deep  emotion,  "  and  farewell,  Miss  Dan- 
gerfield ;"  and  his  voice  assumed  a  tone  of  melan- 
choly kindness. 

"Good-by,  Mr.  Rainsford,"  said  Virginia;  "don't 
forget  the  parrot  and  the  monkey." 

Virginia  was  so  merry  for  at  least  an  hour  after 
his  departure,  that  her  mother  could  not  help 
noticing  her  extraordinary  vivacity. 

"  One  would  think  you  rejoiced  at  Mr,  Rains- 


116  tVESTWARD  HO! 

ford's  going  away,  and  yet  i  cannot  help  regretting 
to  lose  his  society  next  winter.  He  was  not  lively, 
but  sensible  and  well  informed,  and  when  he  did 
talk  it  was  very  agreeably." 

"  Well,  for  my  part,"  said  the  young  lady,  "  I 
think  he  was  the  stupidest  young  man  I  ever  met 
with  in  all  my  life." 

"  My  dear  Virginia,  you  must  excuse  me,  but  I 
don't  believe  one  word  you  have  said." 

Virginia  laughed,  and  ran  away  to  the  river's 
side  ;  .but  the  boat  in  which  Rainsford  embarked 
had  already  disappeared  in  a  turn  of  the  river, 
and  she  returned  home  after  a  long  lingering 
walk,  in  a  mood  so  quiet  and  sedate,  that  she 
scarcely  spoke  a  word  all  the  rest  of  the  day. 

Hardly  had  Rainsford  departed  when  Zeno 
Paddock  made  his  appearance,  with  a  newspaper 
in  his  hand,  and  asked  to  speak  with  Colonel 
Dangerfield  in  private.  Their  conference  lasted 
rather  longer  than  was  customary  with  the  colo- 
nel, who  generally  eschewed  the  company  of 
Zeno.  What  was  its  import  he  did  not  think 
proper  to  disclose  ;  but  he  was  observed  to  be 
absent  and  thoughtful  all  the  rest  of  the  day, 
contrary  to  his  usual  habits,  for  he  was  a  man  of 
great  vivacity  of  character.  Zeno  marched  off 
with  an  air  of  great  importance,  occasionally 
stopping  to  look  at  his  newspaper,  and  nodding 
his  head  significantly  as  he  carefully  folded  it  up 
and  put  it  in  his  pocket. 

"  I  suppose  that  varlet  wanted  you  to  assist 
him  in  setting  up  his  newspaper  ?"  said  Little- 
John,  wishing  to  sound  the  colonel. 

"  It  was  about  a  newspaper,"  replied  the  other, 
and  taking  horse,  rode  out  without  asking  the 
company  of  his  friend, 


WESTWARD   HO1.  117 

"  There's  some  mystery  in  this  matter,"  quoth 
Littlejohn,  and  he  went  to  consult  Pompey  the 
Great,  who  still  lived  in  all  the  dignity  of  aris- 
tocracy, and  was  as  tenacious  of  the  honour  of 
the  family  as  ever. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what,"  said  Pompey ;  "  'spose  he 
want  massa  to  scribe  to  he  paper." 

"  Pooh !  nonsense." 

"  Well  den,  'spose  he  want  to  insult  him  bout 
Massa  Leonard  setting  up  for  member  of  'sembly." 

"  Pish  !  do  you  think  he'd  consult  anybody  but 
me  in  matters  of  such  consequence  ?" 

"  Well  den,  'spose — I  dare  say  it  must  have 
bin  someting  else,  hey,  Massa  Leetlejohn  1n 

"  Pomp,  I  didn't  think  you  was  such  an  old 
blockhead." 

"  Well  den,  'spose  you  go  ax  somebody  wiser 
dan  me,"  said  the  great  Ducklegs  in  a  huif,  and 
the  two  friends  parted  in  no  very  good-humour 
with  each  other,  leaving  the  mystery  to  be  ex- 
plained by  the  course  of  time,  and  the  events  it 
carries  in  its  mighty  womb. 


118  WESTWARD  HO! 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A  voyage,  a  story,  and  a  land  adventure. 

THE  boat  in  which  Rainsford  took  passage 
down  the  Kentucky  River  was  bound  on  a  voyage 
up  the  Ohio,  and  consequently  at  the  junction  of 
the  two  rivers  he  shifted  himself  and  his  "  plun- 
der," to  the  first  which  happened  to  come  by  on 
its  way  to  New  Orleans.  This  proved  to  be  a 
broad-horn,  of  which,  by  a  singular  coincidence, 
our  old  acquaintance  Samuel  Hugg  was  captain 
and  owner.  Many  long  years  had  elapsed  since 
he  carried  the  fortunes  of  Colonel  Dangerfield 
down  the  Ohio ;  but  they  had  passed  over  him, 
as  the  elements  pass  over  the  rugged  rock,  making 
it  only  more  rough  and  hard.  He  was  still 
as  straight  and  almost  as  tall  as  the  sycamores 
that  tower  along  the  banks  of  the  western  rivers, 
and  his  rough  vivacity  remained  undiminished, 
though  he  sometimes  complained,  or  rather  swore 
most  originally,  at  the  steamboats,  which  were 
now  just  beginning  to  make  their  first  trials  on 
the  western  waters,  preparatory  to  the  mighty 
change  they  have  since  worked  in  the  destinies 
of  that  extensive  region.  The  sagacious  mind 
of  Captain  Sam  foresaw  in  their  success  the  ruin 
of  his  business,  and  the  extinction  of  the  broad- 
horns  on  the  Ohio  and  Mississippi,  and  he  often 
took  occasion  to  call  down  upon  them  the  judg- 
ment of  snags,  sawyers,  sandbanks,  and  bursting 
of  boilers,  Nevertheless,  he  was  sometimes 


WESTWARD   HO!  119 

wrought  Upon  to  confess  that  the  varmints  were 
sweet  creturs,  and  that  it  was  "  Transcendent  to 
see  them  ploughing  their  way  up  the  Mississippi, 
as  if  the  d — 1  himself  kicked  'em  on  end,  any- 
how. That  Daniel  Boone  is  a  screamer,"  would 
he  say ;  "  she  beats  the  old  man  himself,  and  he 
was  no  fool,  I  tell  you,  I  used  to  know  him  when 
he  was  sixty  year  old,  and  then  he  could  beat  any 
man  in  Old  Kentuck  shooting  at  a  mark.  I  re- 
member I  stood  once  a  hundred  yards  off,  and  let 
him  shoot  a  rifle  ball  at  a  tin  pint  mug  right  on 
the  top  of  my  head,  and  I  wish  I  may  be  utterly 
onswoggled  if  he  didn't  tip  it  off  as  slick  as  bear's 
grease,  anyhow.  Ah  !  there's  no  such  screamers 
nowadays." 

The  captain,  as  we  before  observed,  was  a 
mighty  considerable  talker,  and  in  the  twilight  of 
the  autumnal  evening,  as  they  glided  silently 
down  the  stream,  he  delighted  to  tell  of  his  ad- 
ventures on  the  waters  of  the  west,  which  he  had 
navigated  for  more  than  forty  years.  Some  of 
his  stories  were  what  are  deemed  tough,  and  it  re- 
quired a  little  extension  of  one's  faith  to  believe 
them  ;  but  there  was  an  extravagance  about  them 
which  at  times  was  not  a  little  amusing,  when 
coupled  with  a  concatenation  of  phrases  that  may 
fairly  be  called  inimitable.  We  ought  not  to  omit 
recording  that  Cherub  Spooney,  now  no  longer  a 
smart  chance  of  a  boy,  but  a  full-grown  man,  was 
still  attached  to  the  service  of  Captain  Hugg,  and 
at  the  time  we  are  speaking  of  officiated  as  second 
to  the  commander,  to  whom  he  considered  him- 
self equal  in  every  respect.  Besides  Spooney,  the 
crew  consisted  of  two  or  three  new  hands,  and 
the  invariable  appendage  of  all  these  boats,  a  gen- 
tleman of  colour,  officiating  as  cook,  and  who 


120  g     WESTWARD   HO1. 

Captain  Sam  swore  was  the  knowingest  chap  he 
ever  knew.  "  The  varmint  can't  read,"  would  he 
say,  "  but  I  wish  I  may  be  split  into  shingles,  if 
he  can't  tell  what's  in  a  newspaper  by  only  smell- 
ing it." 

One  evening,  Rainsford.  who  found  his  melan- 
choly charmed  in  spite  of  himself  by  the  interest- 
ing novelty  of  his  situation,  and  !he  strange 
language  and  manners  of  his  companions,  sat 
listening  to  the  conversation  of  the  crew  as  they 
were  enjoying  one  of  the  most  beautiful  twilights 
nature  ever  bestowed  upon  the  earth.  There  was 
a  silence,  a  luxurious  softness  in  the  aspect  and 
quiet  repose  of  the  crystal  river,  as  it  glided  noise- 
lessly along  between  low  level  banks  from  which 
sprung  giant  trees,  that  spread  their  broad  limbs 
like  vast  umbrellas,  that  was  exquisitely  agreeable, 
and  harmonized  delightfully  with  the  silence  of 
the  earth,  which  here  bore  scarce  a  trace  of  the 
labours  of  man.  They  were  now  approaching 
the  junction  of  the  two  great  rivers,  which,  rising 
in  distant  regions  of  the  world,  at  length  unite 
their  waters  in  one  mighty  stream,  and  journey 
together  to  the  ocean  of  oblivion. 

The  party  was  seated  on  the  roof  of  the  broad- 
horn,  which  consisted  of  boards  inclining  at  each 
end  from,  the  centre,  so  as  to  let  the  rain  run  off, 
and  singing  or  telling  stories  according  to  custom, 
aided  by  the  indispensable  accompaniment  of  a 
competent  supply  of  whiskey,  Rainsford  had 
seated  himself  also  upon  the  roof  of  the  boat,  to 
enjoy ^the  scene  before  him,  and  was  now  casting 
a  glance  of  admiration  on  either  side  ;  now  busy- 
ing himself  in  a  labyrinth  of  reflections,  which, 
whether  he  turned  to  the  past,  the  present,  or  the 
future,  were  equally  fraught  with  unqualified  bit- 


WESTWARD   HO  !  121 

\  - 

terness.  Gradually,  however,  his  attention  was 
arrested  by  the  following  extraordinary  tale. 

"  Well  then,  captain,  if  he  won't  sing,  suppose 
you  tell  us  another  story,"'  quoth  Cherub  Spooney. 

"  Ay,  do  now,  captain  ;  tell  us  the  story  of  the 
strange  cretur  you  picked  up  going  down  the 
river,"  said  another. 

':  Ah !  iww  do,  Massa  Cappin  Sam,"  quoth 
blackey. 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you  how  it  was.  We  had  hauled 
in  the  broad-horn  close  ashore  to  wood ;  wind 
was  up-stream,  so  we  couldn't  make  much  head- 
way anyhow.  Bill  told  the  nigger  to  cook  a  few 
steaks  off  Clumsy — that  was^what  we  called  the 
bear  I  shot  the  day  before — well,  while  we  were 
a-wooding — " 

"  That  story's  as  long  as  the  Mississippi/'  said 
one. 

. "  Shut  pan,  and  sing  dumb,  or  I'll  throw 
you  into  the  drink,"  exclaimed  Spooney. 

"  Why,  I  heard  that  story  before." 

"  Well,  supposing  you  did,  I  didn't ;  go  on, 
captain." 

"  Well,  as  I  was  saying,  Spoon,  the  nigger — " 

"  I  tink  he  might  call  urn  gemman  of  choler," 
muttered  blackey. 

"  The  nigger  went  to  cook  some  bear  while  we 
were  wooding,  so  that  we  might  have  somethin 
to  go  upon.  When  we  came  back,  what  kind  of 
a  varmint  do  you  think  we  started  in  the  cane- 
brake?" 

"  I  reckon  an  alligator,"  said  blackey. 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  you  beauty,  or  you  shall 
smell  brimstone  through  a  nail  hole,"  cried 
Spooney ;  "  go  ahead,  go  ahead,  captain." 

"  Well,  as  I  was  saying  we  started  the  drollest 

VOL.  1,-F 


WESTWARD   HO! 

varmint  perhaps  you  ever  did  see.  Its  face  was 
covered  with  hair,  like  a  bull  buffalo,  all  but  a 
little  place  for  his  eyes  to  see  through.  It  looked 
mighty  skeery,  as  though  it  thought  itself  a  gone 
sucker,  and  calculated  we  were  going  to  eat  it,  be- 
fore we  killed  it ;  but  we  carried  it  aboard  the  broad- 
horn,  and  took  compassion  on  the  poor  thing.  I 
slapped  it  on  the  back,  and  told  it  to  stand  up  on 
its  hind  legs,  and  I  wish  I  may  run  on  a  sawyer 
if  it  didn'tTturn  out  to  be  a  live  dandy." 

"  Had  it  a  tail  T 

"  I'll  wool  lightning  out  of  you,  Bill,  if  you  in- 
terrupt me." 

"  That's  actionable  in  New  Orleans." 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  whoop  !  wake  snakes — go  ahead, 
go  ahead,  and  don't  be  so  rantankerous,"  shouted 
the  audience. 

"  I  swear,  if  he  once  gets  my  tail  up,  he'll  find 
I'm  from  the  forks  of  Roaring  River,  and  a  bit  of 
a  screamer,"  said  Captain  Hugg. 

"Well,  go  ahead — go  ahead — tell  us  about 
the  dandy— ha,  ha,  ha  L.  I  should  like  to  have 
seen  it  when  it  stood  upon  its  hind  legs.  What 
did  it  say?" 

"  Why,  I  asked  what  they  called  such  queer 
things  where  it  came  from,  and  it  said  Basil ;  and 
that  the  captain  of  the  steamboat  had  put  it  ashore 
because  it  insisted  on  going  into  the  ladies' cabin. 
Well,  some  of  us  called  it  summer-savory,  some 
catnip,  some  sweet  basil,  and  we  had  high  fun 
with  the  cretur,  and  laughed  till  we  were  tired. 
And  then  we  set  him  on  a  barrel  forked  eend 
downwards — " 

"  Yough  !  yough  !  yough  !"  ejaculated  blackey, 
bursting  into  one  of  his  indescribable  laughs. 

"  No  laughing  in  the  ranks  there — throw  that 


WESTWARD   HO!  123 

nigger  overboard  if  he  laughs  before  I  come  to 
the  right  place,  and  then  you  may  all  begin. 
Well,  then,  I  began  to  ask  him  all  about  himself ; 
and  he  told  me  he  was  a  great  traveller  ;  and  that 
he  had  been  so  far  north,  that  the  north  star  was 
south  of  him.  And  then  he  asked  me  if  I  knew 
any  thing  of  navigation  and  the  use  of  the  globes. 
'  To  be  sure  I  do,'  said  I ;  '  aint  they  made  for  peo- 
ple to  live  on  ?'  Then  he  inquired  if  .1  ever  heard 
of  Hershell,  or  Hisshell,  I  forget  which,  and  I  told 
him  I  knew  him  as  well  as  a  squirrel  knows"  a 
hickory-nut  from  an  acorn.'  '  He's  dead,'  said  the 
queer  cretur. 

"  '  No,  no,'  says  I,  l  that  won't  do,  there's  no 
mistake  in  Shavetail,  you  may  swear.  I  saw  a 
pedler  with  some  splendid  sausages  made  of  red 
flannel  and  turnips  go  by  our  house  and  I  changed 
with  him  some  wooden  bacon  hams.  He, came 
from  Litchfield,  where  Hershell  lived,  and  didn't 
say  a  word  about  it.'  Here  he  made  a  note  in  his 
book,  and  I  begun  to  smoke  him  for  one  of  these 
fellers  that  drive  a  sort  of  trade  of  making  books 
about  Old  Kentuck,  and  the  western  country  ;  so 
I  thought  I'd  set  him  barking  up  the  wrong  tree 
a  little.  And  I  told  him  some  stories  that  were 
enough  to  set  the  Mississippi  afire ;  but  he  put 
them  all  down  in  his  book.  One  of  my  men  was 
listening,  and  he  sung  out,  'Well,  Sam,  you  do  take 
the  rag  on0  the  bush,  that's  sartin  ;'  and  I  was  fear- 
ful dandy  would  find  out  I  was  smoking  him  ;  so 
I  jumped  up  and  told  Tom  a  short  horse  was  soon 
curried,  and  I'd  knock  him  into  a  cocked-hat  if  he 
said  another  word.  And  that  broke  up  the  con- 
versation. 

"Next  morning  we  stopped  to  wood  a  little  below 
New-Madrid,  and  the  dandy,  who  seemed  one  of  the 

F2 


124  WESTWARD   HO! 

curiousest  creturs  you  ever  saw,  and  was  poking 
his  nose  everywhere,  like  a  dog  smelling  out  a 
trail,  went  with  me  a  little  way  into  a  cane-brake, 
where  we  met  a  woman  living  under  a  board  shed, 
with  four  or  five  children.  Dandy  asked  her  if 
she  was  all  alone — she  said  her  husband  had  gone 
up  to  Yellow  Banks  to  look  for  better  land.  Then 
he  wanted  to  know  what  she  had  to  eat,  and  she 
said  nothing  but  sweet  pumpkins.  '  What,  no 
meat?'  said  he — l  No,  nothing  but  sweet  pumpkins.' 
'  Well,'  said  dandy,  '  I  never  saw  any  thing  half  so 
bad  as  this  in  the  old  countries.'  And  then  he  put 
his  hand  in  his  pocket,  and  gave  her  a  pickalion. 
•  Thank  you,'  said  she,  *  as  I  am  a  living  woman, 
I've  tasted  no  meat  for  the  last  fortnight — nothing 
but  venison  and  wild  turkeys.'  c  The  d — 1  you 
hain't,'  said  dandy,and  wanted  to  get  the  pickatlon 
back  again." 

"  What  a  wild  goose  of  a  feller,  not  to  know 
that  nothing  is  called  meat  in  these  parts  but  salt 
pork  and  beef.  He's  a  pretty  hand  to  write  books 
of  travels,"  said  Spooney. 

"  I  wish  I  may  be  forced  to  pass  the  '  old  syca- 
more root'  up-stream  twice  a  day,  if  I'd  give  the 
Mississippi  Navigator  for  a  whole  raft  of  such 
creturs.  But  what  did  you  do  with  him  at  last, 
captain  ?"said  another. 

"  Why,  I  got  tired  of  making  fun  of  the  ring- 
tail-roarer, and  happening  to  meet  the  steamboat 
Daniel  Boone,  Captain  Lansdale,  coming  down 
stream,  just  as  she  had  smashed  a  broad-horn,  and 
the  owner  was  sitting  on  the  top  of  it,  singing, 

'  Hail,  Columbia,  happy  land, 
If  I  ain't  ruin'd  I'll  be 

I  t>ersuaded 'the  captain  to  let  dandy  come  aboard 


WESTWARD   HO!  125 

again,  on  his  promising  to  keep  out  of  the  ladies' 
cabin.  So  we  shook  hands,  and  I  wish  I  might  be 
smash'd  too  if  I  wouldn't  sooner  hunt  such  a  rac- 
coon- than  the  fattest  buck  that  ever  broke  bread 
in  old  Kentuck." 

The  next  morning  the  broad-horn  arrived  at 
the  junction  of  the  two  great  rivers  Ohio  and 
Mississippi,  which  Rainsford  had  anticipated  with 
no  small  degree  of  impatience.  But  he  found 
there  was  nothing  to  the  eye  particularly  striking. 
The  imagination  indeed  might  dwell  on  the  endless 
course  0f  the  two  streams  here  rolling  along  the 
collected  waters  of  such  vast  regions.  The  union 
of  these  mighty  rivers  was  consummated  in  the 
midst  of  a  dead  solitude.  For  many  miles  before 
it  joined  the  Mississippi,  the  Ohio  glided  through 
a  low  swampy  wilderness,  quietly,  and  with  a 
wave  as  limpid  as  the  crystal  spring,  until  turn- 
ing a  sharp  angle  it  met  the  swift  torrent  of  the 
great  father  of  waters,  the  "  wicked  river,"  as  the 
boatmen  called  it,  and  was  whirled  away  by  its 
irresistible  impetuosity.  It  was  the  union  of  a 
gentle,  unresisting  maiden  with  a  rough  and 
angry  giant.  The  boiling  eddies,  the  turbid  waters 
of  the  Mississippi,  inevitably  conjure  up  the  idea  of 
an  eternal  warfare  with  the  earth ;  it  tears  its  banks 
as  it  rushes  along  ;  and  sometimes,  as  if  impatient 
of  its  devious  windings,  forces  itself  a  passage 
through  a  projecting  point,  making  a  new  channel 
in  one  place,  and  leaving  another  dry.  The  chief 
ambition  of  a  western  adventurer  is  to  found  a 
great  city  on  speculation ;  and  it  may  be  well  sup- 
posed that  the  junction  of  these  two  great  rivers 
did  not  escape  the  keen  eye  of  these  sagacious 
people,  who  may  be  said  to  live  on  futurity. 
Tradition  said  that  a  city  had  once  been  founded 


126  WESTWARD   HO! 

here,  consisting  of  some  houses  built  on  piles. 
But  the  first  rising  of  the  Ohio  inundated  the  sur- 
rounding region,  and  discouraged  the  adventur- 
ers. Rainsford  saw  but  a  single  house,  standing 
alone  in  the  vast  solitude,  and  making  if  possible 
its  loneliness  more  striking.  Its  windows  were 
broken,  its  outside  blackened  by  the  weather,  and 
such  was  its  melancholy  aspect  that  Captain  Hugg 
said  it  always  put  him  in  mind  of  the  voice  of  one 
crying  in  the  wilderness. 

Launched  on  the  bosom  of  the  swift  Mississippi 
the  broad-horn  proceeded  with  an  accelerated 
course,  and  without  stopping,  until  they  arrived 
near  the  little  town  of  New-Madrid,  where  it  was 
necessary  to  halt  for  a  supply  of  wood.  It  was  a 
close  sultry  day,  with  scarcely  a  breath  of  air 
stirring,  and  the  atmospliere  of  a  hazy  obscurity, 
which  almost  always  lays  a  load  of  languor  on 
the  spirits.  The  birds  were  sheltered  in  the  deep 
forests,  where  they  remained  panting  in  silence ; 
and  the  few  domestic  animals  to  be  seen,  ventured 
as  far  into  the  rapid  stream  as  they  dared,  and 
there  stood  lashing  the  insects  with  their  tails, 
listlessly  and  languidly,  as  if  the  effort  was  almost 
beyond  their  strength.  While  the  argonauts  of 
the  broad-horn  were  gathering  drift-wood  along 
the  shore,  Rainsford,  accompanied  by  Captain 
Sam,  strolled  to  the  confines  of  the  Great  Prairie,  as 
it  is  called,  which  extends  for  many  miles  from 
the  borders  of  the  Mississippi.  As  they  stood  ad- 
miring the  rolling  expanse  of  vapours  which  gave 
to  its  vast  surface  the  appearance  of  the  distant 
ocean  in  a  calm,  and  coursing  with  their  eyes  the 
dead  and  noiseless  solitude,  a  distant  rumbling 
sound  caught  their  attention  for  a  moment — 
ceasing  for  a  moment,  and  in  a  moment  beginning 
again,  apparently  nearer  than  before,  It  was  sue- 


WESTWARD   HO! 

ceeded  by  a  vast  cloud  of  dust,  which  all  at  once 
obscured  the  air,  and  hid  from  their  view  the  face 
of  the  world. 

"Cut  dirt,  stranger,  for  your  life;  there's  a 
whirlwind  coming,"  cried  Captain  Sam,  suiting 
the  action  to  the  word. 

But  he  had  scarcely  spoken  when  the  earth 
opened  between  them,  and  they  stood  rocking  to 
and  fro  on  either  side  a  yawning  chasm.  The 
ground  rose  in  waves,  like  the  sea  in  a  storm  ;  the 
vast  trees  that  skirted  the  bare  precincts  of  the 
endless  plain  nodded  and  struck  their  high  heads 
together  with  a  crash,  and  lashed  each  other  with 
their  giant  limbs  ;  the  earth  burst  its  strong  ribs, 
and  rose,  and  split  into  vast  ravines ;  the  waters 
broke  through  their  bounds,  and  while  they  formed 
new  lakes,  or  forced  themselves  into  new  chan- 
nels in  some  places,  in  others  they  left  large  spaces 
high  and  dry.  Anon  the  waves  of  the  firm-fixed 
earth  subsided  for  a  moment,  and  she  lay  trem- 
bling and  quivering  as  in  the  paroxysm  of  an 
ague. 

During  this  appalling  interval,  Rainsford  and 
his  companion  rose  from  the  ground,  where  they 
had  been  thrown  by  the  resistless  force  of  the  vi- 
brations, and  instinctively  sought  refuge  they 
knew  not  whither.  The  captain  made  towards 
the  river,  as  being  his  natural  element ;  while  the 
other  climbed  one  of  the  lofty  trees  that  skirted 
the  bounds  of  the  interminable  plain,  from  a  vague 
apprehension  of  the  waters,  which,  as  well  as  the 
earth,  seemed  struggling  to'  free  themselves  from 
the  fetters  of  Nature's  inflexible  laws.  He  had 
scarcely  done  this,  when  again  the  same  appalling 
noises  approached  from  another  quarter,  and  again 
the  firm-set  earth  began  to  heave  and  curl  itself 


128  WESTWARD   HO! 

into  a  sea  of  waves  that  seemed  to  approach  from 
a  distance,  gathering  strength,  and  rising  higher 
and  higher,  until  they  burst,  scattering  vast  vol- 
umes of  water  and  sand  high  in  the  air,  and  leav- 
ing the  ground  seamed  with  deep  chasms,  which 
the  traveller  still  surveys  with  astonishment  and 
dismay.  In  a  few  moments  the  earth  seemed 
changed  into  a  different  element,  and  to  become 
an  ocean.  A  large  portion  of  the  district  around 
was  covered  with  the  waters,  and  the  tree  on 
which  Rainsford  had  sought  refuge  stood  rocking 
to  and  fro  in  the  midst  of  them.  Darkness,  or  at 
least  an  obscurity,  like  that  of  a  total  eclipse  of  the 
sun,  came  over  the  world ;  and  such  was  the  dis- 
may of  all  animated  nature,  that  a  little  bird  came 
and  sought  refuge  in  the  bosom  of  the  young  man, 
where"  it  lay  quiet  and  tame  in  the  trance  of  ter- 
ror. He  could  feel  its  little  heart  beat  against  his 
own,  and  the  communion  of  sympathy  between 
him  and  the  panting  flutterer  was  not  unsoothing 
in  this  terrible  hour. 

Casting  his  eye  towards  the  town  of  New- 
Madrid,  he  beheld  the  houses  tottering  and  tum- 
bling to  pieces,  and  the  people  fleeing  to  and  fro 
in  all  the  desperation  of  overwhelming  terror. 
Turning  to  the  Mississippi,  he  suddenly  observed 
it  in  one  particular  spot  boil  up,  and  overflow  its 
banks,  carrying  boats  and  every  thing  that  floated 
on  its  surface  far  over  into  the  fields,  where  they 
were  left  perfect  wrecks.  Nay,  it  spared  neither 
the  living  nor  the  dead,  for  all  at  once  he  saw  the 
little  graveyard  of  the  village,  with  its  mouldering 
bones  and  quiet  inhabitants,  lifted,  as  it  were,  from 
its  resting-place,  and  hurled  into  the  torrent,  where 
it  and  they  were  scattered,  never  to  be  associated 
again  in  time  or  in  eternity.  In  this  situation  he 


WESTWARD  HO?  129 

remained  all  that  day  and  night,  amid  a  succes- 
sion of  shocks  that  seemed  to  threaten  the  anni- 
hilation of  the  whole  scheme  of  nature,  and  the 
production  of  a  second  chaos.  Such  was  the  ex- 
haustion  of  his  frame,  that  he  could  scarcely  sup- 
port himself;  and  had  he  not  wedged  his  body  in 
the  crotch  of  the  tree,  he  must  have  fallen  and 
perished.  In  the  morning  the  waters  around  him 
had  gathered  into  a  newly-formed  lake  at  a  dis- 
tance" of  a  few  miles,  and  the  shocks  intermitted. 
The  little  bird  that  had  lain  all  night  panting  in 
his  bosom,  apparently  revived  by  the  presence  of 
the  cheerful  morning  sun,  struggled  from  its  place 
of  refuge,  flew  away,  like  the  dove  from  the  ark 
when  the  waters  had  subsided,  and  did  not  return. 
Stiff  and  exhausted,  he  descended  «from  his  perch, 
and  with  great  labour  and  difficulty  made  his  way 
to  the  town,  where  he  found  a  few  persons  who 
had  ventured  to  return  to  their  homes,  or  rather 
the  ruins  of  their  homes.  Fortunately,  these 
dwelt  not  in  palaces  or  stately  houses,  but  in  cot- 
tages of  logs  and  clay,  and  few  or  no  lives  had 
been  lost.  Many  were  missing  for  a  time,  but 
they  all  returned  again  save  one  man,  who  had 
been  left  on  an  island  in  a  lake  formed  by  the 
convulsions  of  the  earthquake,  and  whose  bones 
were  accidentally  found  long  afterwards. 

Among  those  who  made  their  appearance  dur- 
ing the  day,  to  the  great  satisfaction  of  our  hero, 
was  the  captain  and  crew  of  the  broad-horn  in 
which  he  had  taken  his  passage.  The  story  they 
told  of  their  translation  from  the  waters  to  the 
land  was  tinged  with  many  wonders  and  extrava- 
gances, which,  being  repeated  day  after  day,  and 
year  after  year,  gradually  approached  to  the  in- 
credible. It  was  a  time  and  a  region  of  wonders, 

F-3 


.. 


130  WESTWARD   HO! 

however,  and  not  the  least  of  these  was  the  extra- 
ordinary abstinence  of  Captain  Sam  and  his  people. 
They  neither  swore  nor  drank  whiskey  that  day, 
nor  during  the  continuance  of  the  shocks  of  the 
earthquake,  which  lasted  with  occasional  intervals 
so  long,  that  the  people  of  the  neighbourhood  got 
used  to  it,  insomuch  that  a  veritable  traveller  re- 
lates, that  going  ashore  near  New-Madrid,  and 
visiting  the  house  of  an  old  lady,  he  was  alarmed 
by  certain  disagreeable  tremblings  of  the  earth ; 
whereupon  she  exclaimed,  in  an  encouraging 
tone,  "  O,  don't  be  frightened,  stranger ;  it's  only 
the  earthquake."  We  are  sorry  to  say  that  the 
reformation  of  these  worthies  lasted  no  longer 
than  the  earthquake,  and  that  they  returned  in 
due  time  to  their  old  habits.  Tradition  says  that 
this  remarkable  phenomenon  produced  a  radical 
reform  in  the  phraseology  of  Captain  Sam  Hugg ; 
for  that  whereas  before  he  was  accustomed  to 
designate  himself  as  "  half  horse,  half  alligator, 
and  a  little  of  the  steamboat,"  he  ever  afterwards 
added  "  a  small  sprinkling  of  an  earthquake"  to 
the  former  ingredients. 

Rainsford  remained  in  the  village  of  New- 
Madrid  several  days,  in  a  state  of  mind  little  to  be 
envied.  The  tremendous  and  appalling  scenes 
he  had  encountered,  operating  on  his  gloomy, 
nervous,  and  apprehensive  temperament,  had  in- 
creased his  propensity  to  melancholy  anticipations. 
Such  dispositions  are  almost  always  inclined  to 
fanaticism,  and  prone  to  wrest  the  great  phe- 
nomena of  nature  from  the  mysterious  universal 
agents  of  Providence,  to  the  paltry  and  miserable 
instruments  of  abject  superstition.  With  a  vain 
and  impotent  presumption,  they  imagine  the  wrath 
of  Heaven  is  roused  for  the  attainment  of  petty 


"WESTWARD   HO!  131 

purposes  of  individual  punishment,  and  exclaim, 
in  the  language  of  the  insane  interpreter  of  the 
Divine  will, — 

I  saw  the  bolt  of  heaven  launch'd  from  on  high, 
Mark'd  its  bright  course,  and  lo  !  it  kill'd  a  fly  ! 

Under  the  influence  of  this  delusion,  he  ima- 
gined that  there  was  something  ominous,  some- 
thing prophetic  in  the  earthquake  which  had 
thus  arrested  his  voyage  down  the  river.  He 
viewed  it  as  a  distinct  indication  that  he  was  not 
permitted  to  proceed  for  the  purposes  he  had  in 
view,  because  these  purposes  were  become  unne- 
cessary by  the  sure  and  certain  fate  that  awaited 
him,  and  which  he  now  fully  persuaded  himself 
was  in  a  swift  progress  to  its  final  consummation. 
"  To  what  end."  would  the  fiend  whisper  to  him. 
'  to  what  end  visit  distant  scenes  ?  to  what  pur- 
pose enlarge  thy  mind,  or  cultivate  thy  under- 
standing, or  gratify  thy  curiosity,  by  contemplat- 
ing the"  vast  works  of  the  creation  ?  or  to  what 
purpose  set  thy  house  in  order,  since  in  a  little 
while^  yea,  as  sure  as  the  voice  of  the  Deity  pro- 
phesies in  the  thunder,  the  whirlwind,  and  the 
earthquake,  in  a  little  while  thou  wilt  neither  be 
able  to  enjoy  the  noble  feast  of  the  mind,  nor  taste 
the  blessings  of  a  peaceful  home  ?" 

Guided  by  this  dangerous  monitor,  Rainsford, 
after  lingering  about  the  village,  where  his  nerves 
and  his  imagination  were  irritated  and  sublimated 
by  the  perpetual  recurrence  of  the  shocks  of  the 
earthquake,  for  some  days,  and  enduring  the  har- 
assing struggle  of  not  being  able  to  make  up  his 
mind  whether  he  should  proceed  to  New  Orleans 
or  not,  at  length  determined  to  retrace  his  steps 
to  the  place  whence  he  had  departed,  and  he  re^ 


132  WESTWARD   HO! 

I 

turned  unexpectedly  to  the  village  of  Dangerfield- 
ville,  after  an  absence  of  about  a  month. 

Colonel  Dangerfield  received  him  with  hospi- 
table civility,  for  it  was  almost  a  part  of  his  religion 
to  treat  every  human  being  as  if  he  had  gained  a 
sanctuary  when  once  beneath  the  shelter  of  his 
roof.  But  Rainsford,  whose  nerves  vibrated  to 
the  slightest  touch  of  neglect  as  well  as  the  slight- 
est indication  of  a  want  of  cordiality,  saw,  or  fan- 
cied he  saw,  a  diminution  in  the  honest  warmth 
with  which  the  colonel  had  bade  him  farewell  in 
the  manner  he  received  him  now.  On  the  part 
of  Mrs.  Dangerfield  all  was  kindness  and  matronly 
welcome.  The  young  lady  met  him  with  a  lively 
nonchalance. 

"  You  have  made  a  quick  voyage  and  a  speedy 
return,"  said  she ;  "  well,  have  you  brought  me 
the  present  you  promised  ?" 

"  I  have  not  been  to  New  Orleans,"  was  the  re- 
ply. "  No  farther  than  New  Madrid." 

"  Well,  and  what  did  you  see  there,  any  parrots 
or  monkeys  T 

"  No,  I  only  saw  an  earthquake." 

"  An  earthquake  !"  exclaimed  they  all,  sup- 
posing he  was  jesting,  as  they  had  not  yet  heard 
of  it  in  this  remote  region,  where  its  effects  were 
not  felt. 

"  How  did  it  look  T  asked  Virginia. 

"  It  looked  like  the  last  agony  of  expiring  nature 
— as  if  the  Omnipotent  had  resigned  his  empire 
of  the  universe,  and  left  the  rebel  elements  to 
struggle  for  mastery.  It  looked — pray  Heaven  I 
may  never  look  upon  its  like  again." 

"  Come,  come,  young  man,"  said  the  colonel,  in 
rather  a  severe  tone,  "  no  jesting  on  such  subjects. 
It  is  unworthy  a  rational  being,  as  of  the  Being 
that  created  him," 


WESTWARD   HO!  133 

"  Jesting !  as  I  live,  sir,  I  saw  the  earth  rolling 
in  solid  waves,  and  felt  myself  tossed  on  them  as 
if  I  had  been  on  the  sea.  I  saw  the  trees  rock, 
and  knock  their  heads  against  each  other  till  they 
dashed  themselves  to  pieces.  I  saw  the  ground 
open,  and  spout  out  lakes  and  rivers.  And  I  saw 
the  churchyard,  and  the  graves,  and  the  moulder- 
ing bones,  all  lifted  up  and  carried  away  out  of 
sio;ht.  If  such  are  the  jestings  of  the  great  Ruler 
of  the  universe,  what  must  his  anger  be  ?" 

The  hearers  were  overawed  by  the  picture  he 
drew,  and  the  deep  seriousness  of  his  tones- con- 
vinced them  he  was  at  least  in  earnest.  Virginia, 
as  she  scanned  his  face,  saw  in  it  such  a  change 
since  they  parted,  such  an  expression  of  haggard 
terror,  and  such  a  pale  hue  of  ill  health,  that  she 
felt  the  dews  on  her  eyelashes,  and  a  pang  shot 
through  her  heart  at  having  sported  with  the  feel- 
ings of  one  whom  she  was  sure  was  labouring 
under  sickness  of  body  or  mind. 

Further  inquiries  produced  a  more  detailed  and 
coherent  account  of  the  great  phenomenon  he  had 
witnessed.  But  still  there  was  an  air  of  wildness 
approaching  to  rhapsody  in  his  manner  and  lan- 
guage, which  seemed  to  indicate  that  his  nerves 
had  not  yet  recovered  the  shock  of  such  an  ap- 
palling scene,  nor  his  imagination  settled  down 
into  a  state  of  wholesome  repose.  The  whole  of 
the  remainder  of  the  day  he  was  restless  and  un- 
quiet; and  any  sudden  jar  or  noise  made  him 
start  as  if  apprehensive  of  approaching  danger. 
Colonel  Dangerfield,  as  he  watched  the  singulari- 
ties of  his  conduct,  could  not  help,  recalling  to 
mind  the  communications  of  that  knowing  politi- 
cian, learned  wight,  and  pestilent  busybody,  Zeno 
Paddock, 


134  "WESTWARD  HO! 


CHAPTER  XV. 

The  Author  doeth  homage  to  his  mother  earth,   after 
which  he  describes  a  hunting  match. 

WINTER,  with  his  hoary  beard  and  fiery  pro- 
boscis, whence  hung  glittering  icicles  like  jewels 
from  barbarian  nose,  now  stripped  the  forest  of 
its  green  leaves,  the  gardens  of  their  blushing 
honours,  and  cast  them  away  like  worthless  weeds 
to  wither  and  die,  and  return  like  man,  and  all 
created  nature,  to  their  common  mother,  earth. 
There  are  who  complain  of  the  different  dispen- 
sations of  Providence  to  man  and  the  world  he  in- 
habits ;  that  the  former  knows  but  one  fleeting 
spring,  while  the  other  every  revolving  year  re- 
news its  youthful  beauty  till  the  consummation  of 
all  things  arrives.  But  beshrew  such  pestilent 
humgruffians !  hath  not  the  wise  Dispenser  of 
all  good  things  made  ample  amends  by  giving  us 
memory  to  recall  our  youthful  pleasures ;  fancy 
to  paint  a  thousand  scenes  fairer  and  more  deli- 
cious than  spring  e'er  offered  to  the  eye  of  mortals? 
And  last  and  best  of  all,  hath  he  not  given  us 
Hope,  whose  glorious  visions  far  exceed  all  that 
the  May  of  life  ever  realized  ?  The  richest  gifts 
showered  on  the  earth  ;  her  diamonds,  gold,  and 
carpets  of  flowers  ;  her  power  of  renewing  all  her 
youthful  charms  at  each  revolving  year,  are 
nothing  to  those  bestowed  on  man — his  reason, 
and  his  immortality. 


WESTWARD  HO!  135 

Yet  let  us  not  undervalue  our  good  old  mother 
earth,  for  good  she  is,  ay,  and  beautiful  too, 
whether  clothed  in  the  eastern  magnificence  of 
imperial  green,  or  basking  in  the  glowing  gold  of 
summer  sunshine,  or  flaunting  like  Joseph  in  the 
many-coloured  coat  of  autumn,  or  wrapped  in  her 
wintry  winding-sheet,  she  awaits  like  the  just 
man  the  hour  when  she  shall  arise  more  glorious 
for  her  long  sleep.  Who  can  contemplate  her 
smiling  valleys,  rich  meadows,  golden  harvests, 
grateful  flowers,  whispering  woods,  endless  wind- 
ing rivers,  boundless  pathless  seas,  full-bosomed 
hills,  and  cloud-capped  mountains,  without  a  feel- 
ing of  awful  recognition  of  Infinite  Power  ?  Who 
can  behold  the  admirable  union  and  aptness  with 
which  all  these  participate  in  one  great  end  with- 
out doing  homage  to  Infinite  Wisdom  ?  And  who 
can  revel  in  the  balmy  air,  inhale  the  breath  of 
the  meadows  and  the  flowers,  listen  to  the  music 
of  her  birds,  her  brooks,  her  whispering  leaves, 
her  answering  echoes,  and  taste  her  other  boun- 
teous gifts  of  all  that  man  can  wish  or  enjoy, 
without  bowing  his  head  in  grateful  acknow- 
ledgement of  Infinite  Mercy? 

Though  long  divorced  from  the  country ,rwe 
have  not  yet,  thank  Heaven!  quite  lost  the  ru- 
ral feeling.  We  can  still  recall  the  scenes  of  early 
life  with  a  pleasure  unalloyed  by  pining  regrets 
for  the  past  or  unmanly  fears  of  the  future  ;  and 
we  often  steal  a  few  days  from  the  racket  of  the 
noisy  town  to  bury  ourselves  in  the  holy  quiet 
of  the  mountains  ;  renew  once  more  the  sim- 
ple pleasures  of  days  long  past,  and  be  a  boy 
a^ain  with  our  own  little  boys ;  to  chase  butter- 
flies and  grasshoppers ;  attack  wasps'  nests  ;  tum- 
ble on  the  haycocks;  gather  chestnuts;  ramble 


136  WESTWARD   HO' 

whole^  mornings  without  object  or  end  ;  and  last, 
and  dearest  pleasure  of  all,  follow  some  mountain 
brook  through  its  romantic  rugged  solitudes  ;  and 
pit  our  art  against  the  cautious  timidity  of  the 
speckled  monarch  of  the  leaping  stream. 

The  winter  brought  with  it  a  cessation  of  out- 
door employments,  save  that  of  hunting,  to  the 
rural  inhabitants  of  the  village  of  Dangerfield- 
ville,  and  gathered  them,  especially  of  evenings, 
around  the  glowing  fire,  where  Master  Littlejohn 
revelled  in  the  luxury  of  three  chairs  to  his  heart's 
content.     Sometimes  they  made  parties  to  hunt 
the  deer,  or  the  scoundrel  bear,  whose  rugged  na- 
ture and  rugged  hide  make  him  the  scandal  of 
the   forest.     On  these  occasions  Bushfield  was 
always   summoned  to   take  the  command,  and 
never  conqueror  led  his  army  to  the  field  with 
more  eager  appetite  for  glory  than  our  gallant 
woodman.     Rainsford,  who  by  degrees  seemed  to 
have  in  some  measure  recovered  his  usual  level 
of  mind  and  spirits,  often  accompanied  them,  and 
always  felt  the  resistless  inspiration  of  the  sport. 
Even  Mr.  Littlejohn  occasionally  gathered  him- 
self together,  and  sallying  forth  among  the  rest, 
rifle  in  hand.  "  talked  big,"  as  the  Black  Warrior 
phrased  it,  and  did  marvellously  little.     It  was  his 
invariable  custom  to  place  himself  in  some  conve- 
nient spot,  and  there  await  the  coming  of  the  deer. 
If  it  came,  he  had  his  shot  and  generally  missed  ; 
if  it  came  not,  he  had  a  most  excellent  opportu- 
nity of  boasting  what  he  would  have  done  had  an 
opportunity  offered.     One  day  when  the  Black 
Warrior  happened  to  be  on  the  same  station  with 
him,  Littlejohn  missed  a  fine  fat  buck,  which  came 
leaping  along  within  ten  yards  of  him. 
"  Huh !"  said  the  red  man,  "  your  rifle  is  be- 


WESTWARD   HO!  137 

witched,  you  must  go  and  get  some  great  medicine 
to  cure  it." 

"  Medicine  1  What,  would  you  have  me  give 
my  gun  a  dose  of  physic  ?" 

"  I  mean  great  medicine.  Something  to  make 
him  shoot  straight.  Something  Great  Spirit  give 
to  his  good  people  to  keep  off  bad  one." 

"  Pooh — do  you  think  !the  Great  Spirit  meddles 
with  such  nonsense  as  shooting  a  deer  ?" 

"  Yes,  Great  Spirit  meddle  with  every  thing. 
I  go  hunting,  I  shoot,  shoot,  shoot,  no  kill  any 
thing,  bad  spirit  won't  let  (me,  deer  run  away, 
birds  fly  away,  no  hit.  Well,  I  go  to  conjurer, 
and  he  give  me  great  medicine  Great  Spirit  give 
him,  and  then  when  1  fire,  huh  !  down  drop  deer, 
bird,  bear,  every  thing ;  bad  spirit  gone  away. 
Well,  I  go  fish — fish  come,  nibble,  nibble,  nibble, 
no  bite,  no  catch  one  at  all,  bad  spirit  come  and 
say  no.  Well,  I  go  to  conjurer  again,  and  he  give 
me  'nother  great  medicine.  Then  I  go  fish  once 
more,  and  then,  huh !  I  catch  many  as  I  please. 
Bad  spirit  gone  again." 

"  Now  you  don't  believe  this,  do  you  T' 

"  Believe  ?  Indian  know  so.  You  white  men 
say,  proof  of  the  pudding  in  the  eating.  I  shoot 
nothing,  I  catch  no  fish,  I  go  get  great  medicine, 
den  I  shoot  every  thing,  never  miss.  And  I 
get  fish,  many  as  I  can  carry.  Huh  !  is  not  all 
owing  to  the  great  medicine  ?" 

"  I  don't  believe  one  word  of  it." 

"  No  !  look  here."  And  opening  his  tobacco- 
pouch  he  carefully  brought  out  an  eagle's  feather. 
"  There,  there  one  great  medicine.  I  leave  him 
home  I  shoot  nothing,  I  bring  with  me  I  never 
miss.  Huh  !  You  white  men  think  you  have 
all  the  great  medicines,  Indian  got  some  too,  J3ut 
hark !" 


138  WESTWARD   HO! 

And  at  that  moment  they  heard  the  sonorous 
music  of  the  deep-mouthed  hounds,  echoing  far 
and  wide,  and  approaching  the  pass  they  occupied, 
in  full  career.  Nigher  and  nigher  came  their  cry, 
and  Littlejohn,  who  had  neglected  to  reload  his 
rifle,  'set  about  it  immediately.  But  before  the 
deed  was  done,  the  deer,  with  his  antlers  thrown 
back  on  his  neck,  and  eyes  almost  starting  out  of 
his  head  with  fear,  came  bounding  past  like  the 
wind.  But  the  charmed  rifle  of  the  Black  War- 
rior arrested  his  course ;  the  bullet  entered  his 
breast,  he  sprung  his  last  spring,  and  fell  dead. 

"  There — you  see,  great  medicine  do  that." 

"  Great  fiddlestick,"  quoth  Littlejohn,  who  was 
not  a  little  jealous  of  the  success  of  the  Indian. 

A  North  American  Indian,  in  his  primitive  state, 
never  betrays  the  least  emotion  except  when  he  is 
drunk.  None  study  dignity  and  self-possession 
as  he  does  ;  nor  is  there  in  the  civilized  world, 
or  in  the  courts  of  eastern  despots,  a  greater  slave 
to  'etiquette.  In  battle,  he  strikes  down  his  enemy 
with  graceful  deliberation.  At  the  stake,  he  in- 
flicts the  keenest  tortures  with  the  same  indiffer- 
ence he  endures  them.  He  never  declaims  ex- 
cept when  inspired  by  whiskey.  He  never  inter- 
rupts another,  and  he  never  boasts  of  his  exploits. 
When  he  appeals  to  his  tribe  for  any  new  dignity, 
he  relates  them  with  an  air  of  indifference,  and 
leaves  the  audience  to  say  what  shall  be  his  re- 
ward. When  the  full-blooded  Indian  means  mis- 
chief, he  is  silent ;  and  when  the  half-breed  weeps, 
beware  of  him. 

The  Black  Warrior  affected  to  take  no  notice 
of  the  contemptuous  epithet  of  Littlejohn.  The 
rest  of  the  party  now  came  up,  and  being  satisfied 
with  the  sport,  and  laden  with  game,  returned  to 
the  village  in  triumph. 


WESTWARD   HO  139 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Rainsford  is  besieged  by  the  Holy  Alliance  of  Zeno  and 
Judith — The  former  achieves  a  great  discovery. 

THE  state  of  depression  under  which  Rainsford 
had  laboured  for  some  time  previous  to  the  period 
of  his  introduction  to  the  reader,  naturally  made 
him  exceedingly  sensitive  to  the  slightest  appear- 
ance of  neglect,  and  peculiarly  sagacious  in  detect- 
ing its  first  dawnings.  Since  his  return  to  the 
village,  he  fancied  that  there  was  a  falling  off  in 
the  cordiality  with  which  he  had  heretofore  uni- 
formly been  treated  by  Colonel  Dangerfield.  The 
rest  of  the  family  were,  as  usual,  kind  and  atten- 
tive ;  but  although  the  colonel  never  on  any  occa- 
sion committed  an  overt  act  that  distinctly  marked 
a  change  in  his  feelings  towards  his  guest,  for  that 
was  against  the  canons  of  Old  Virginia  and  her 
buxom  daughter  Kentucky,  still  there  was  some- 
thing wanting,  some  inexplicable,  indescribable 
little  demonstrations  of  welcome,  which  the  sen- 
sitive, melancholy  stranger  felt,  but  could  not  ana- 
lyze. He  now  seldom  or  never  asked  Rainsford 
to  accompany  him  abroad,  and  the  interest  he  had 
heretofore  taken  in  his  affairs  seemed  to  have  sub- 
sided into  something  like  indifference. 

"  I  will  no  longer^  trespass  on  his  hospitality," 
said  the  young  man,  and  sallied  once  more  forth 
to  visit  Master  Zeno  Paddock,  with  whom  he  held 
a  long  confabulation,  the  result  of  which  will  ap- 


140  WESTWARD   HOl 

pear  anon  in  all  human  probability.  That  same 
evening  he  took  the  opportunity,  on  some  allusion 
being  made  to  something  or  other  that  indicated 
an  understanding  on  the  part  of  the  family  of 
Colonel  Dangerfield  that  he  was  to  spend  the  rest 
of  the  winter  with  them,  to  observe,  with  some 
little  embarrassment,  that  he  was  about  to  remove 
to  Mr.  Paddock's,  who  lived  nearly  opposite,  a  dis- 
tance of  two  or  three  hundred  yards. 

The  ladies  expressed  surprise,  and  the  elder 
made  some  little  attempt  at  remonstrance  against 
this  desertion  ;  the  colonel,  as  if  offering  a  sacri- 
fice of  inclination  to  old  habits,  compelled  himself 
to  make  a  few  civil  speeches ;  but  they  wanted 
the  eloquence  of  cordiality,  and  the  thing  was 
soon  settled  that  the  removal  should  take  place 
the  next  morning.  Additional  melancholy  gath- 
ered in  the  face  of  Rainsford  after  this,  and  he 
retired  earlier  than  usual  to  his  room,  but  not  to 
his  repose.  Virginia  heard  him  pacing  to  and 
fro,  and  detected,  or  fancied  she  detected,  the  occa- 
sional murmurs  of  a  sorrowful  or  discontented 
spirit.  Again  her  curiosity  was  excited,  her  sym- 
pathy awakened,  by  the  apparent- mystery  of  his 
nightly  wakefulness ;  and  her  mind  grew  more 
and  more  confirmed  in  making  it  the  subject  of 
frequent  contemplation. 

The  next  day  Mr.  Rainsford  took  possession  of 
his  homely  lodgings  :  but  the  change  proved  little 
satisfactory,  and  instead  of  finding  greater  quiet, 
as  well  as  more  perfect  freedom  from  observation 
and  restraint,  he  was  perpetually  pestered  with 
the  attentions  of  Zeno  Paddock,  together  with  his 
excellent  helpmate  Mrs.  Judith,  whose  curiosity 
vied  with  that  of  her  husband.  The  classical 
academy  of  Zeno  being  situated  a  little  distance 


WESTWARD   HO  I-     x  141 

in  front  of  his  log  castle,  he  caused  his  tripod  of 
authority  to  be  forthwith  removed  to  the  vicinity 
of  a  window,  which  commanded  a  full  view  of  the 
chamber  of  Rainsford,  and  enabled  him  to  super- 
intend the  motions  of  that  mysterious  personage. 
If  he  visited  Colonel  Dangerfield,  which  he  still 
continued  to  do  occasionally,  Master  Zeno,  as  the 
boys  always  called  him,  Avas  on  nettles  till  he  had 
an  opportunity  of  questioning  him  as  to  what  was 
said,  done,  thought,  and  looked  on  the  important 
occasion ;  or  if  he  walked  forth  into  the  village, 
or  down  by  the  river-side,  or  into  the  neighbouring 
forest,  ten  to  one  Master  Zeno  left  his  dominion 
to  the  lord  of  misrule,  and  sallied  out  to  watch  his 
motions.  Often  when  Rainsford  fancied  himself 
alone,  he  would  find  his  tormentor  close  behind 
him,  and  not  unfrequently  he  seemed  to  come  out 
of  the  earth,  or  to  drop  from  the  clouds,  so  sudden 
was  his  appearance. 

Mrs.  Judith,  who  WSKB  so  ugly  that  one  might 
be  almost  tempted  to  suppose  it  was  her  identical 
self  that  had  cut  off  the  head  of  Holofernes,  and 
placed  it  in  triumph  on  her  own  shoulders,  was 
not  a  whit  more  chary  of  her  company  at  home. 
She  would  bring  her  work,  and  sit  with  him,  and 
put  as  many  cross  questions  as  a  superlative  pet- 
tifogger does  when  he  wants  to  confound  a  simple 
witness.  Indeed,  her  curiosity  passed  all  human 
understanding. 

"  I  am  sure  you  must  be  melancholy,  Mr.  Rains- 
ford,"  said  she,  on  one  of  these  occasions. 

«  No." 

"Then  I'm  sure  you  are  sick.  Do  let  me  give 
you' some  horehound  or  catnip-tea.  Now  I'm 
sure  you  must  be  sick." 

"  No,  I'm  very  well." 


142  WESTWARD  HO! 

"  Then  I'm  sure  you  must  have  something  on 
your  mind.  O,  now  I  have  it,  you  must  be  in 
love ;  all  young  men  are  in  love," — and  she  smiled 
like  a  hippopotamus  or  a  sea-lion — "an't  you,  now, 
Mr.RainsfordJ" 

"  No,  Mrs.  Paddock,  I'm  not  in  love,"  said  he,  a 
little  impatiently. 

"  Well,  that's  transcendent ;  not  in  love,  and 
been  a  whole  season  living  with  Miss  Phiginny 
Dangerfield  !  Well,  I  vow,  that's  mighty  !  Well 
then,  I  suppose — where  was  you  raised,  Mr. 
Rainsford  ?" 

"  She  takes  me  for  a  blood-horse  or  a  game- 
chicken,  confound  her !"  thought  he.  "  I  was 
raised,  madam,  in  the  house  of  my  father." 

"  No,  sure  !  well,  I  declare  now,  I  thought  so. 
Where  did  he  tarry,  if  I  may  be  so  bold  ?" 

"  In  the  land  of  the  living  once,"  said  the  young 
man,  with  a  sigh. 

"  Ah  !  poor  man  !  I  thought  so.  When  did  he 
die,  if  I  may  be  so  curious  ? — Pshaw !  I  never  did 
see  such  rotten  thread  as  this  i — but,  as  I  was  say- 
ing, when  did  the  poor  dear  old  gentleman  die  ?" 
sighing  and  sniffling  a  little. 

"  Before  I  was  born." 

"  Well,  that's  droll,  I  declare.  I  wish  I  had  a 
pair  of  spectacles.  I  believe  I'm  losing  my  eyes." 

"  I  wish  you  would  lose  your  tongue,"  thought 
Rainsford. 

"  Did  he  leave  a  widow  ?" 

"  Yes,  madam,  he  did." 

"  And  children  besides  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  yes !     I   had  once  two  brothers." 

"  No,  sure  !  and  what  has  gone  with  them  all  ?" 

"  They  are  all  dead !"  exclaimed  Rainsford, 
whose  agitation  now  became  excessive. 


WESTWARD   HO!  143 

"  Dead !  now  you  don't  say  as  much.  I  declare 
it's  very  droll.  What  did  they  all  die  of?" 

"  What  I  shall  die  of  one  day  or  other  !"  and 
the  youth  covered  his  face  with  his  hands,  while 
his  bosom  heaved  with  strong  emotion. 

"  Ah !  now  don't  take  on  so,  now  don't,"  said 
Mrs.  Judith,  coaxingly,  for  she  was  a  good-natured 
woman,  notwithstanding  she  carried  the  head  of 
Holofernes  on  her  shoulders  ;  "  don't  take  on  so  ; 
it's  dangerous  to  think  too  much  of  these  things. 
1  knew  a  Mrs.  Fudgell  once,  that  got  out  of  her 
wits  on  account  of  an  awakening,  and  killed  her 
own  little  child,  because,  as  she  said  afterwards, 
when  she  came  to  herself,  a  spell  before  she  died, 
she  thought  an  angel  appeared  to  her,  and  told 
her  she  must  do  it.  ^People  often  commit  murder 
out  of  pure  dumps,  which  turns  their  brains 
upside  down.  If  you  take  on  so,  maybe  you'll  be 
tempted  to  commit  murder,  and— 

"  Woman  !  woman  !"  cried  Rainsford,  "  what 
are  you  talking  of?  Do  you  know — have  you 
ever  heard — but  that  is  impossible  !  Some  fiend 
has  sent  you  here  to  torment  me."  His  counte- 
nance was  pale  and  haggard,  his  limbs  quivering 
with  the  tension  of  agony,  as  he  seized  his  hat, 
and  darted  out  of  the  room  towards  the  recesses 
of  the  forest. 

"  He — m — m  !  I  reckon,  I  suspect  that  all  is 
not  right ;  I  wouldn't  have  on  my  mind  what  that 
young  man  has  for  something !"  and  she  went 
straight  over  to  the  classical  academy  to  tell  Zeno 
all  about  it. 

But  that  worthy  professor  of  birchen  classics 
had  got  the  start  of  her.  He  had  seen  Rainsford 
hurry  out  of  the  house  and  make  for  the  wood ; 
and,  sliding  from  his  three-legged  stool,  hast- 


144  WESTWARD   HO! 

ened  after  him,  impelled  by  an  agony  of  curiosity, 
leaving  his  congregation  of  little  boys  and  girls 
as  it  were  without  a  shepherd,  to  their  mischievous 
divertisements. 

Rainsford  buried  himself  in  the  obscurity  of  the 
forest,  and  wandered  about  till  his  agitation  had 
somewhat  subsided.  He  sat  down  upon  the  moul- 
dering trunk  of  a  majestic  tree  that  had  been  over- 
thrown by  a  whirlwind,  and  wiped  the  dew  from 
his  cold  forehead. 

"  To  what  am  I  reserved  at  last  ?"  said  he  ;  "I 
carne  hither  into  the  wilderness  in  hope  to  escape 
the  miserable  degrading  fate  that  hangs  over  me  ; 
to  find  some  place  where  my  name  and  all  that 
concerns  me  was  unknown  ;  where  the  dreadful 
secret  of  my  life  might  remain  without  disclosure 
till — till  destiny  itself  revealed  it !  But  it  pursues 
me  everywhere ;  the  detestable  babbling  of  this 
woman  discloses  it ;  the  very  air  I  breathe  vibrates 
the  chord  of  agony  in  my  heart,  and  discloses  it. 
Murder ! — that  I  should  ever  become  a  murderer, 
as  that  prating  woman  hinted !"  and  he  groaned 
in  despair  as  he  pronounced  the  word  murderer. 

Just  at  that  moment  he  heard  some  one  sneeze, 
and,  rushing  to  the  spot  from  whence  it  proceeded, 
encountered  the  veritable  Master  Zeno  crouching 
behind  a  tree. 

"  What  do  you  want  here  ?"  cried  the  young 
man,  seizing  him  by  the  collar. 

"  I — I  came  to  consult  you  about  setting  up  my 
newspaper,  sir.  I  was  thinking — 

"  You  did !  and  I  suppose  you  heard  what  I 
said  just  now  ?" 

"  Why,  I  confess,  sir,  I  did  hear  the  last  part  ; 
for  I  assure  you  I  just  came  up  the  moment  I 
sneezed," 


WESTWARD   HO!  145 

"Well,  and  what  did  you  hear?" 

"Why,  sir,  I,  I  thought— I'm  not  sure,  but 
I  thought  I  heard  you  talking  something  of 
escaping  a  degrading  fate  ;  of  finding  some  place 
of  refuge.  I  hope  you're  not  tired  of  my  house 
already.  I'm  sure  my  wife  and  I  pay  you  all  the 
attention  in  our  power,  and  never  leave  you  alone 
if  we  can  help  it.  I  really  hope — " 

"Pooh  !  what  else  did  you  hear?55 

"  Why,  I  might  be  mistaken — I  dare  say  I  was, 
but  I  thought  I  heard  you  say  something  about 
murder,  or  murderer,  or  some  such  matter.  But 
understand  me,  sir ;  I  don't  mean  to  say  I  believe 
— that  is  to  say — my  dear  sir,  what  do  you  think 
of  my  plan  for  setting  up  a  newspaper  ?" 

"  Look  you,  Mr.  Paddock,  you  have  intruded 
upon  my  privacy,  and  overheard,  or  at  least  in 
part  overheard,  what  I  had  rather  die  than  have 
known  or  even  suspected  till — till  it  is  too  late  to 
keep  the  secret.  It  will  be  known  too  soon  for 
me,  but,  until  then,  I  would  wish  you  never  to 
say  any  thing  on  the  subject." 

"  O  no,  sir,  by  no  means ;  I  promise  to  keep  it 
a  perfect,  a  most  profound  secret,  that  you  are  a 
— that  is  to  say — but  what  think  you,  sir,  of  my 
plan  for  setting  up  a  newspaper  ?" 

"Why,"  and  Rainsford  reflected  a  moment, 
"  this  I  think,  and  tttis  I  promise  you,  that  if  you 
will  solemnly  swear — 

"What,  on  the  Bible,  sir?" 

"No,  solemnly  pledge  your  welfare  in  this 
world  and  that  which  is  to  come,  never  to  reveal, 
not  even  to  your  wife,  not  to  any  living  soul  or 
human  ear,  what  you  have  this  day  seen  and 
heard ;  I  will  furnish  you  with  the  means  of  es- 
tablishing a  newspaper  at  once," 


146  \FE8TWARD   HO ! 

"  What !  a  Weekly,  or  a  daily  ?" 

"  Daily  or  hourly  if  you  please." 

"  A  daily  ! — a  daily !"  cried  Zeno,  rubbing  his 
hands  ;  "  sir, — Mr.  Rainsford, — I  promise  you 
solemnly  not  to  open  my  lips  sleeping  or  waking, 
alive  or  dead,  on  the  subject  of  the  mur — I  mean 
on  the  subject — provided  you  enable  me  to  set  up 
a  daily  paper, — daily  sir,  daily,  I  think  you 
said  ?" 

"  I  did,  and  I'll  keep  my  word ;  but  if  you  break 
yours, — if  I  don't  break  every  bone  in  your  body, 
nay,  drive  the  breath  out  of  it  for  ever,  say  I'm 
a  liar  and  a  coward.  Go  home,  and  if  I  ever 
catch  you  dogging  me  again,  I'll  shoot  you  as 
sure  as  you're  alive  ;  look  here,"  and  he  exhibited 
to  the  astonished  eyes  of  Master  Zeno  Paddock  a 
real  genuine  Joe  Manton,  that  caused  the  man  of 
letters  to  make  himself  scarce  in  the  shortest  pos- 
sible time. 

"  Well !  well !  what  did  you  see,  what  did 
you  hear,  what  did  you  do? — now  do  tell  me, 
Zeno,  or  I  shall  burst, — quick,  quick,  quick  !"  ex- 
claimed Mrs.  Judith,  running  out  of  breath  to 
meet  her  lord ;  "  now  do  tell  me,  I  promise  you 
I  won't  whisper  a  syllable  to  any  living  soul." 

"  You  won't  ?"  said  Zeno,  drily. 

"  No,  not  even  to  Mrs.  Tupper." 

"  Well,  that's  right ;  and  to  make  sure  you'll 
keep  your  promise, — come  here,  Judy, — a  word 
in  your  ear  ;  I  didn't  hear,  see,  or  do  any  thing, 
— now  don't  tell  anybody,  will  you  ?" 

Hereupon  Mrs.  Judith  gave  her  lord  and  master 
a  most  irreverent  box  on  the  ear,  which  caused 
the  bells  to  ring  bob-majors  therein.  But  he  reso- 
lutely kept  the  secret,  having  the  hope  of  the 
newspaper  and  the  fear  of  Joe  Manton  before  his 


WESTWARD  HO1.  147 

eyes,  although  sore  were  the  struggles  which  rent 
his  mind,  and  the  temptations  he  resisted.  So 
strong  was  the  vocation  of  our  classic  to  follow 
Rainsford  in  his  wanderings,  that  he  sometimes 
caught  himself  in  the  very  act,  and  was  obliged, 
as  it  were,  to  turn  the  outward  man  round  by 
force,  and  set  him  going  the  other  way.  He  con- 
sidered it  not,  however,  in  the  bond,  to  refrain 
from  the  inquisition  within  doors,  and  made  him- 
self amends  for  his  abstinence  by  day,  by  peeping 
into  his  low  chamber  window  ten  times  a  night, 
and  listening  with  all  his  ears.  As  for  Mrs. 
Judith,  she  came  to  a  resolution  to  drown  herself, 
and  was  proceeding  towards  the  river  for  that 
purpose,  when  her  good  angel  whispered  her  that 
it  was  out  of  all  nature  for  a  person  to  keep  a 
secret  twenty-four  hours,  and  that  either  Zeno 
had  nothing  to  tell,  or  she  would  certainly  know 
it  in  due  time.  Accordingly  she  returned  home, 
and  like  a  faithful  helpmate  set  about  cooking  the 
good  man's  supper,  which  tradition  says  he  ate 
with  singular  demonstration  of  satisfaction,  mum- 
bling between  whiles,  "A daily! — a  daily!  who'd 
have  thought  it ;  what  a  lucky  rogue  I  am,"  until 
Mrs.  Judith  was  seized  with  another  acute  fit  of 
curiosity,  which  would  have  assuredly  taken  away 
her  breath,  had  it  not  luckily  set  her  tongue  run- 
ning like  unto  a  mill-clapper. 

When  Master  Zeno  came  to  say  his  prayers, 
which  he  did  every  night,  his  conscience  smote 
him  sorely  on  the  score  of  keeping  such  a  horri- 
ble secret  as  that  of  which  he  had  just  possessed 
himself.  But  then  his  conscience  weighed  but  a 
scruple  or"two,  and  the  temptation  to  disregard  its 
monitions  weighed  several  pounds.  There  was 
the  hope  of  reward  and  the  fear  of  punishment 


148  WESTWARD   HO1. 

in  this  world,  staked  against  the  long  reckoning 
of  the  future,  and  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say 
which  of  the  scales  kicked  the  beam.  Zeno  be- 
haved like  a  man  of  honour  ;  he  kept  the  secret, 
at  the  same  time  that  he  hinted  to  everybody  in 
the  village,  not  excepting  his  loving  wife,  that  he 
knew  enough  of  a  certain  person  that  should  be 
nameless  to  hang  him,  as  sure  as  his  name  was 
Zeno  Paddock, 


WESTWARD  JIO!  149 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

Treating  of  what  follows  that  which  went  before. 

THE  persecutions  of  Mrs.  Judith  frequently 
drove  Rainsford  to  seek  repose,  or  at  least  relief, 
either  in  rambling  through  the  woods,  now  show- 
ing forth  all  the  desolation  of  winter,  or  at  the 
fireside  of  Colonel  Dangerfield,  where  he  was 
always  received  with  welcome  by  the  ladies,  and 
perfect  civility  by  the  colonel.  Though  he  gene- 
rally took  his  gun  with  him,  it  was  observed  he 
never  brought  home  any  game,  and  the  Black 
Warrior  frequently  in  his  dry  way  advised  him  to 
procure  some  great  medicine  to  make  his  rifle 
shoot  straight.  Mrs.  Judith  nearly  distracted 
herself  with  wondering  what  under  the  sun  could 
tempt  a  man  into  the  forest  in  the  depth  of  win- 
ter, except  the  prospect  of  killing  something ;  and 
Bushfield  laughed  at  him  most  unmercifully  when 
he  came  over  on  a  visit  to  Dangerfieldville.  In 
short,  Mr.  Rainsford  had  the  rare  felicity  of  setting 
everybody  wondering,  and  becoming  an  object  of 
speculation  to  the  whole  village. 

But  there  was  one,  and  the  fairest  one  of  all, 
who  felt  somewhat  more  than  curiosity  about  this 
young  man,  and  that  was  Virginia  Dangerfield. 
She  was  a  high-spirited,  imaginative  young 
maiden,  bred  up  amid  the  solitudes  of  nature,  or 
at  least  without  friends  or  companions  of  her 
own  age  and  degree  of  refinement,  and  Rainsford 
was  the  first  youth  she  had  seen  since  the  days 


150  WESTWARD   HO! 

of  her  childhood,  whose  mind  and  attainments, 
feelings  and  pursuits,  in  any  way  harmonized 
with  hers.  Besides,  there  was  something  in  the 
strong  vicissitudes  of  temper  he  occasionally  ex- 
hibited, such  striking  contrasts  between  the  mel- 
ancholy tones  of  his  voice,  the  pallid  hue  of  his 
cheek,  the  dark  and  gloomy  tenor  of  his  senti- 
ments at  times,  and  the  gay,  nay,  almost  wild 
vivacity  he  frequently  indulged,  until  it  almost 
approached  to  an  appearance  of  artificial  excite- 
ment, that  was  continually  calling  forth  her  won- 
der, her  admiration,  or  her  pity.  Such  a  combi- 
nation, it  is  generally  believed,  soon  blends  into 
one  warmer  sentiment  in  the  heart  of  a  young 
female  ;  but  as  yet  Virginia  only  cherished  a  strong 
feeling  of  sympathy  towards  this  young  man, 
blended  with  a  strange,  inscrutable,  and  fearful 
perception,  she  scarcely  knew  how  or  whence  im- 
bibed, which  prevented  that  entire  confidence 
which  is  the  best  foundation  of  virtuous  love. 
When  he  was  depressed  and  sad,  she  felt  her 
heart  drawn  towards  him  irresistibly ;  but  when 
»  he  broke  forth,  as  he  sometimes  did,  into  wild  yet 
eloquent  rhapsodies,  bordering  on  incoherence  ; 
when  his  eyes  sparkled  and  his  cheeks  glowed 
with  a  sort  of  wayward  inspiration,  she  knew 
not  why,  but  she  could  not  sympathize  with  what 
seemed  so  unnatural. 

His  conduct  to  her  also  savoured  of  the  incon- 
-*  sistencies  which  marked  his  general  deportment. 
He  frequently  passed  his  mornings  and  evenings 
during  the  winter  in  her  society,  and  in  general 
his  conversation  was  highly  intellectual,  as  well 
as  imaginative ;  but  at  times  his  mind  would 
seem  to  fly  off  suddenly  from  the  subject  into  a 
train  apparently  having  no  connexion  with  it. 


WESTWARD  HO!  151 

and  referable  to  no  conceivable  concatenation  of 
ideas.  For  days  in  succession  he  would  exhibit 
towards  her  a  course  of'  the  most  delicate  unob- 
trusive attentions,  which  she  was  tempted  to  in- 
terpret as  young  maidens  are  wont ;  and  then, 
perhaps,  without  warning,  provocation,  or  appa- 
rent motive,  absent  himself  voluntarily,  or  rather 
studiously  avoid  her.  It  is  scarcely  in  human 
nature  not  to  resent  such  wayward  caprices,  and 
Virginia  repaid  him,  when,  with  as  little  seem- 
ing Reason  as  he  had  for  absenting  himself,  he 
returned  again.  Thus  they  went  on,  half-friends, 
half-lovers ;  at  one  time  cool,  at  another  cordial. 
In  the  mean  while,  Mrs.  Judith  continued  her 
system  of  espionage,  and  almost  every  day  dis- 
covered something  that  nearly  killed  her  with 
the  pangs  of  curiosity.  Master  Zeno  honourably 
kept  his  word  to  Rainsford,  saving  the  exception 
we  hinted  at  in  the  Jast  chapter;  and  truth 
obliges  us  to  disclose  the  fact,  that  he  encouraged 
his  wife  to  continue  her  investigations,  by  taking 
every  occasion  to  laugh  at  her  vague  suspicions. 
She  was  "  determined  to  convince  him  some  day 
or  other,  that  their  lodger  had  something  or  other 
on  his  conscience  that  might  better  not  be  there." 
In  pursuance^of  this  praiseworthy  resolution,  she 
continued  her  attentions,  and  favoured  Rainsford 
with  her  company  so  frequently  of  a  morning, 
and  indeed  all  day,  that  he  was  more  than  once 
on  the  point  of •  leaving  the  village,  and  remaining 
until  the  spring  invited  him  to  take  possession  of 
his  own  house.  But  he  knew  not  whither  to  go ; 
he  shrunk  from  the  society  of  the  world ;  the 
rivers  were  all  frozen  ;  travelling  without  roads 
through  the  forest  was  impracticable  to  all  but  an 
Indian  or  a  backwoodsman  ;  and  besides  all  this, 


152  WESTWARD   HO! 

Virginia  Dangerfield  was  such  a  charming  girl, 
so  gentle  in  her  manner  towards  him,  with  such 
wild  yet  tender  eyes,  and  such  a  voice  !  "  Her 
words  fall  from  her  lips  as  soft  and  as  sweet  as 
the  honey  trickles  from  the  new  honeycomb," 
said  he ;  and  so  saying,  he  bit  his  thumb  at  Mrs. 
Judith  Paddock,  and  bade  defiance  to  the  head  of 
Holofernes. 

One  night,  when  all  the  village  slept,  Rainsford 
was  pacing  his  chamber  as  was  his  custom.  He 
managed  to  keep  the  foul  fiend  that  haunted  his 
imagination,  at  bay  while  the  sun  shone,  and  the 
passing  show  of  the  world  was  exhibiting  before 
his  eyes  ;  but  when  night  and  silence  came,  and 
when  all  that  charmed  him  away  from  himself 
was  absent  from  his  sight,  the  grinning  spectre 
rose  and  besieged  his  pillow  the  moment  he  laid 
down  his  head.  Then  it  was  that  the  short  in- 
tervals of  unreal  enjoyment,  or.  rather  of  illusive 
rest,  were  paid  for  by  hours  of  sleepless,  restless, 
miserable  anticipations.  To  escape  these,  he 
would  weary  himself  by  walking  back  and  forth 
for  hours  and  hours,  until,  weary  and  debilitated, 
he  sought  a  troubled  repose,  in  a  sleep  to  which 
the  habitual  contemplation  of  his  waking  hours, 
gave  a  character  of  reflected  horrors.  Occasion- 
ally he  stopped  to  look  out  at  his  window  on  the 
dead  landscape,  commanded  by  the  rising  ground 
on  which  the  village  was  situated.  Not  a  breath 
of  air  was  stirring,  not  a  sound  was  abroad ;  no 
whispering  leaves,  no  chirping  insects  ;  nor  katy- 
did, nor  tree-frog,  nor  any  thing  that  breathed  of 
life,  seemed  to  exist  at  that  moment  save  himself 
alone.  The  earth  was  wrapped  in  her  white 
winding-sheet  of  snow,  and  reposing  in  the  trance 
of  temporary  death,  The  dark  forest  which 


WESTWARD   HO!  153 

bounded  the  view  at  a  distance  seemed  to  his 
harassed  fancy  the  utmost  verge  of  the  world, 
the  commencement  of  the  region  of  oblivion, 
beyond  which  all  is  chaos,  uncertainty,  and  of 
which  nothing  is  assuredly  known,  until  all  know- 
ledge is  vain. 

As  he  stood  buried  under  a  mass  of  thronging 
incongruities,  all  at  once  it  seemed  that  the  sun 
had  risen  at  midnight,  and  cast  his  bright  morn- 
ing ray  upon  the  dark  woods.  A  ruddy  glare 
illuminated,  not  only  the  trees,  but  the  sky  above 
them,  gradually  extending  higher  and  higher,  and 
wider  and  wider,  and  brightening  in  its  expan- 
sion, until  the  ^stars  waxed  dim  and  the  moon- 
beams disappeared.  The  state  of  his  mind  in- 
clined Rainsford  to  superstitious  influences,  and, 
as  he  watched  these  appearances  in  strange  and 
awful  perplexity,  it  occurred  to  him  to  look  at  his 
watch.  It  was  scarcely  one  o'clock.  It  was  not 
the  first  blush  of  the  morning;  and  what  could 
it  be  but  some  apt  and  supernatural  warning ; 
some  one  of  those  mysterious  messages  of  mighty, 
changes  or  individual  ills,  which,  like  the  long 
shadows  of  the  trees  when  the  sun  declines  to  the 
western  horizon,  stretch  far  beyond  reality,  and 
distance  the  course  of  time  1  A  single  word  awoke 
him  from  his  dream. 

The  dismal  cry  of  "  Fire  !"  from  a  single  hoarse 
voice  at  once  conveyed  to  his  mind  the  natural 
solution  of  the  threatening  omen.  In  an  instant 
he  was  in  the  grass-grown  street  which  divided 
the  village,  and  at  the  same  moment  saw  the 
flames  breaking  out  from  the  roof  of  Colonel  Dan- 
gerfield's  mansion,  which,  being  built  of  pine- 
wood,  burnt  almost  with  the  rapidity  of  tinder. 
Not  a  soul  was  stirring  as  yet  but  himself  and  the 


154  WESTWARD   HO!     . 

person  who  had  given  the  alarm,  and  from  the 
total  silence  within,  it  was  evident  that  none  of 
the  family  were  as  yet  awakened.  Rainsford's 
first  impulse  was  to  knock  violently  at  the  door 
and  call  aloud.  But  it  would  seem  that  we  miser- 
able short-sighted  mortals  never  sleep  so  sound  as 
when  the  thief  is  abroad  or  the  house  on  fire.  No 
one  answered,  no  one  appeared,  and  the  flames 
were  gaining  strength  at  every  instant.  A  thought 
struck  him,  and  running  round  to  the  side  of  the 
house  where  Virginia  slept,  he  threw  a  large  stone 
at  her  window,  which  broke  two  or  three  panes  of 
glass,  and  scattered  them  about  the  room.  The 
noise  awoke  her ;  she  ran  to  the  window,  and  de- 
manded what  was  the  matter. 

"  For  the  sake  of  your  life,"  cried  Rainsford, 
"  ask  no  questions ;  the  house  is  on  fire,  and  every 
soul  in  it  seems  dead  or  asleep.  Quick,  quick, 
Virginia,  or  you  are  lost — I  beseech  you  lose  not  a 
moment." 

Virginia  disappeared,  and  Rainsford  hastened 
to  receive  her  at  the  front  door,  which  he 
found  had  been  at  length  opened  by  Little- 
john,  who  stood,  as  villagers  are  wont  to  stand 
on  occasions  that  so  seldom  occur,  without  know- 
ing what  to  do,  or  which  way  to  turn  himself. 
The  rest  of  the  family  gathered  around  him, 
with  the  exception  of  Colonel  Dangerfield,  who 
had  gone  the  evening  before  to  attend  to  some 
magisterial  business  at  the  county-town,  some 
twenty  miles  ofi0,  and  of  Virginia,  who  had  not 
yet  made  her  appearance. 

"  Thank  God !"  exclaimed  Rainsford,  "  you  are 
all  safe."  Here  he  looked  round,  and  found  Vir- 
ginia was  not  there. 

"Where  is  Miss  Pangerfield ?"  cried  lie,  and 


WESTWARD   HO!  156 

rushed  into  the  house.  The  chamber  of  Virginia 
was  at  the  extremity  of  the  hall  of  the  second 
story,  which  ran  the  whole  length  of  the  house ; 
and  Rainsford  discovered,  to  his  horror,  that  the 
staircase  which  led  to  it  was  in  flames.  At  the 
head  of  the  stairs  he  thought  he  could  distinguish 
a  white  figure  stretched  at  full  length,  and 
apparently  insensible.  He  sprang  three  steps 
upwards,  but  the  flames  dashed  in  his  face,  and 
sent  him  back  again.  Again  he  made  a  des- 
perate effort,  but  suffocation  drove  him  once  more 
to  the  foot  of  the  stairs.  By  this  time  Mrs. 
Dangerfield  and  the  rest  of  the  family,  with  a 
crowd  of  villagers,  were  drawn  to  the  spot,  and 
saw  the  white  victim  of  the  flames  lying  as  be- 
fore described.  The  mother  was  held  by  force 
from  rushing  to  her  relief,  and  at  length,  over- 
come by  her  feelings,  fainted,  and  was  carried 
away  insensible.  At  this  moment  Virginia  re- 
covered sufficient  animation  to  rise,  and  sufficient 
recollection  to  be  aware  of  her  situation.  A  third 
time  Rainsford  attempted  the  ascent,  and  returned 
with  his  hair  in  a  blaze. 

"Fly  to  your  chamber-window-— fly — fly !"  cried 
he,  almost  suffocated  with  heat,  smoke,  and  agi- 
tation. 

"  I  cannot  fly  !"  exclaimed  Virginia,  faintly,  and 
sunk  down,  to  all  appearance  never  to  rise  again, 
save  when  all  the  human  race  arise.  The  flames 
now  approached  the  fair  and  gentle  victim,  whose 
hours  seemed  fast  drawing  to  instants  of  time,  and 
silent  dismay  and  total  inaction  succeeded  the 
noise  and  bustle  of  the  preceding  scene. 

At  the  last  decisive  moment  a  sudden  thought 
seemed  to  revive  Rainsford  from  the  leaden  stupor 
which  his  excessive  yet;  abortiy^  exertions  had, 


156  WESTWARD   HO! 

cast  upon  his  mind  and  body.  Pails  of  water  nad 
been  brought  in  by  the  villagers  in  the  vain  hope 
of  arresting  the  progress  of  the  flames,  and  various 
articles  of  household  furniture  were  thrown  about 
the  lower  entry.  Among  these  was  a  large  dam- 
ask table-cloth,  a  relic  of  the  ancient  glory  of 
the  Dangerfield  dynasty,  which  Rainsford  seized, 
dipped  in  the  water,  threw  it  over  his  head, 
darted  up  the  staircase,  which  yet  hung  to- 
gether, and,  seizing  the  lifeless  body  of  Virginia, 
found  his  way  blindfold  down  again,  with  little 
injury  to  himself  or  the  young  lady,  whom  he 
tenderly  sheltered  under  the  wet  damask,  which 
was  almost  scorched  to  a  cinder  ere  he  had  per- 
formed the  perilous  feat.  But  a  few  moments 
were  consumed  in  the  transactions  we  have  just 
related ;  and  scarcely  had  the  safety  of  Vir- 
ginia been  achieved,  when  the  roof  fell  in,  and 
the  crowd  was  obliged  to  leave  the  mansion  to 
its  fate. 

Virginia  was  carried  by  Rainsford,  in  a  state  of 
utter  insensibility,  to  a  neighbouring  house,  whi- 
ther her  mother  had  been  taken,  and  where  she 
now  remained  in  perfect  distraction  of  mind.  The 
sight  of  her  daughter,  however,  soon  brought  her 
to  herself;  but  it  remained  doubtful  whether  Vir- 
ginia would  ever  revive.  The  long  time  she  had 
remained  in  her  swoon,  and  the  heat  and  smoke 
in  which  she  was  enveloped,  had  apparently  for 
ever  quenched  the  vital  spark ;  and  for  many  an 
anxious  moment  all  exertions  to  awaken  it  only 
strengthened  a  conviction  that  all  was  vain. 
Twice  did  they  abandon  the  attempt,  all  ex- 
cept the  mother,  whose  insurmountable  affection 
seemed  to  produce  a  prophetic  reliance  on  the 
eventual  triumph  of  human  means,  aided  by  the 


WESTWARD   HO!  157 

blessing  of  Omnipotence.  She  still  persisted,  and 
her  perseverance  was  at  length  rewarded.  Slowly, 
and  as  if,  like  Lazarus,  she  was  awaking  from  the 
tomb,  and  casting  off  the  chains  of  Death  himself, 
Virginia  revived  to  consciousness,  and  the  spell 
of  suspended  animation  was  finally  broken.  By 
degrees  she  came  to  her  recollection,  and,  casting 
her  eyes  towards  the  smoking  ruins,  threw  her- 
self into  the  arms  of  her  mother,  exclaiming,  "My 
father  can  build  a  new  house  ;  but  if  I  had  lost 
thee,  my  mother,  where  should  I  find  another  like 
thee  ?" 

14 


158  WESTWARD  no! 


CHAPTER  XYIfl. 

A  great  discovery  of  Mrs.  Judith  Paddock ;  to  wit,  that 
this  is  a  most  scandalous  and  wicked  world. 

THERE  are  certain  conceited  moralists,  or  phi- 
losophers, if  so  please  ye,  and  certain  affected  sen- 
timentalists, who  profess  to  consider  life  and  all 
its  blessings,  a  boon  not  worth  receiving,  not  worth 
possessing,  and  not  worth  our  thanks  to  the  great 
Giver.  In  the  pride  of  fancied  superiority,  they 
pretend  to  look  with  calm  contempt  on  the  strug- 
gles, the  pursuits,  the  enjoyments  of  their  fellow- 
creatures,  and  to  hold  themselves  aloof  from  such 
a  petty  warfare  for  petty  objects.  They  under- 
value the  enjoyments,  they  exaggerate  the  suffer- 
ings of  the  human  race,  and  indirectly  impeach 
the  mercy  of  Providence,  in  having  created  count- 
less millions  of  human  beings  only  to  increase  the 
sum  of  misery  in  this  world. 

But,  for  our  part,  "we  hold  no  communion  with 
such  men,  whether  they  are  sincere  or  not ;  nor 
do  we  believe  for  one  single  moment — except, 
peradventure,  when  suffering  a  twinge  of  the 
tooth-ache — that  the  good-hearted,  well-disposed 
inhabitants  of  this  world,  take  them  by  and 
large,  do  not  on  the  whole  enjoy  more  than 
they  suffer  even  here,  where  it  would  seem 
from  these  philosophers  and  sentimentalists  there 
is  as  little  distribution  of  infinite  justice  as 
there  is  dispensation  of  infinite  mercy.  What 
though  there  arc  intervals  of  sorrow,  disap- 


WESTWARD   HO!  159 

pointment,  remorse,  agony,  if  you  will,  mingled 
in  the  cup  of  existence,  that  man  must  be  very 
wretched  indeed  who,  in  looking  back  upon  his 
course,  cannot  count  far  more  hours  of  enjoyment 
than  of  suffering.  We  deceive  ourselves  perpetu- 
ally,  and  there  is  nothing  which  we  exaggerate 
more  than  the  ordinary  calamities  of  others,  until 
the  truth  is  brought  home  to  ourselves  by  being 
placed  in  the  same  situation. 

When  mankind  appear  to  be  plunged  in  the 
very  waters  of  bitterness,  without  hope  or  conso- 
lation, they  are  not,  after  all,  so  wretched  as  might 
be  imagined  by  the  young  and  inexperienced. 
Melancholy,  grief,  nay,  even  despair  can  find  a 
strange  pleasure  in  unlimited  self-indulgence. 
The  good  Being  who  gives  the  wound  seems  to 
have  provided  a  remedy  to  soften  its  pangs,  by 
ordaining  that  the  very  grief  which  dwelleth  in 
the  innermost  heart  should  be  mixed  with  some 
rare  ingredients  that  sweeten  or  alleviate  the  bitter 
draught.  In  his  extremest  justice,  he  seems  to 
remember  mercy ;  and  while  he  strikes,  he  spares. 
Amid  clouds  and  darkness  there  is  still  an  unex- 
tinguished  light;  in  storms  and  tempests  there 
floats  a  saving  plank ;  amid  the  deepest  wo  there 
is  a  sad  luxury  in  giving  way  without  restraint 
to  tears ;  in  calling  to  mind  again  and  again  the  lost 
object  of  our  affections,  summing  up  the  extent 
of  our  irretrievable  loss,  and  pouring  into  our  own 
wounds  the  balm  of  our  own  pity. 

Happiness  consists  in  a  quiet  series  6*f  almost 
imperceptible  enjoyments  that  make  little  impres- 
sion on  the  memory.  Every  free  breath  we  draw 
is  an  enjoyment ;  every  thing  beautiful  in  nature 
or  art  is  a  source  of  enjoyment ;  memory,  hope, 
fancy,  every  faculty  of  the  intellect  of  man  is  a 


160  WESTWARD   HO! 

source  of  enjoyment ;  the  flowers,  the  fruits,  the 
birds,  the  woods,  the  waters,  the  course,  the  vicis- 
situdes, and  the  vast  phenomena  of  nature,  cre- 
ated, regulated,  and  preserved  by  the  mighty  hand 
of  .an  omnipotent  Being,  all  are  legitimate  and 
;  easonable  sources  of  enjoyment,  within  the  reach 
of'  every  rational  being.  Death  is  indeed  the  lot 
of  all,  and  all  should  yield  a  cairn  obedience  to 
the  law  of  nature  when  the  hour  shall  come.  But 
a  fretful  impatience  or  an  affected  contempt  of 
life,  is  as  little  allied  to  philosophy  as  to  religion. 
Such  being  our  view  of  the  subject,  we  are  ra- 
ther inclined  to  admire  than  to  blame  Virginia  for 
being  grateful  to  Rainsford  for  the  preservation 
of  a  life  as  yet  unstained  by  guilt  or  unblighted  by 
suffering.  The  gift,  and  the  manner  of  bestow- 
ing it,  touched  her  to  the  soul,  and,  co-operating 
with  former  predispositions  in  his  favour,  pro- 
duced a  feeling  so  exquisitely  tender,  that  if  it 
was  not  love,  it  certainly  was  not  friendship. 
Perhaps  it  partook  of  both,  and  in  all  probability 
it  had  more  of  the  former  than  of  the  latter.  As 
it  was,  however,  it  communicated  a  touching 
character  to  her  speech,  her  actions,  and — shall 
we  confess  it  ? — to  her  looks,  when  she  sometimes 
watched  with  a  newly-awakened  interest  those 
sudden  changes  of  temper,  those  wild  sallies  of 
imagination,  which  she  fancied  waxed  more  and 
more  frequent.  The  inconsistencies  of  his  con- 
duct also  ^became  every  day  more  marked,  and  if 
he  at  one  time  was  little  less  than  a  lover,  he 
would  at  another  become  little  less  than  rude  and 
neglectful.  Yet  with  all  this,  there  was  more,  far 
more  of  the  appearance  of  being  irresistibly  im- 
pelled by  necessity  than  of  acting  under  the  influ- 
ence of  wanton  caprice.  It  was  evident  that 


WESTWARD   HO!  161 

grief,  or  some  feeling  allied  to  it,  was  at  the  root 
of  all  his  eccentricities. 

The  morning  after  the  fire  a  messenger  was 
sent  for  Colonel  Dangerfield,  who  returned  in  the 
evening.  In  the  warmth  of  his  gratitude  for  the 
preservation  of  his  daughter,  he  thanked  Rains- 
ford  with  all  his  heart,  and  for  a  while  every  ves- 
tige of  his  former  coolness  disappeared.  But 
though  his  conduct  continued  such  as  would  have 
satisfied  a  stranger  that  the  young  man  was  a 
prime  favourite,  still  Rainsford  felt  that  the  colo- 
nel was  rather  striving  to  repay  an  obligation  than 
giving  way  to  a  spontaneous  feeling  of  kindness. 
"  He  has  heard  or  he  suspects  the  secret  reason 
of  my  flying  from  my  home,"  whispered  the  ap- 
prehensive conscience  of  the  unfortunate  wan- 
derer ;  and  his  first  impulse  was  to  rid  him  of  his 
presence  for  ever,  by  departing  as  he  came.  But 
still  he  remained  spellbound  by  an  influence  which 
every  day  became  stronger,  and  every  hour  added 
something  to  the  burthen  he  bore. 

A  few  days  sufficed  for  the  erection  of  a  new 
mansion  in  the  room  of  that  which  had  been 
burnt.  The  good  villagers  resorted  to  what,  in 
woodland  phrase,  is  called  "log-rolling,"  which 
means  a  combined  eflbrt  of  many  to  do  that  which 
is  either  difficult  or  impossible  to  one.  They 
gathered  together  and  built  the  colonel  a  house, 
but  it  was  a  sad  falling  off  from  the  other ;  being 
simply  constructed  of  logs,  after  the  manner  of  a 
primitive  settlement ;  where,  there  being  no  saw- 
mills, the  only  resource  is  to  take  the  whole  tree, 
or  "  go  the  whole  hog,"  as  they  say  in  "  Old  Ken- 
tuck."  Nor  could  they  boast  much  of  their  fur- 
niture, great  part  of  that  in  the  old  house  having 
been  destroyed,  But  the  spring  was  approaching. 


;    '!     > 
162  WESTWARD  Ho! 

the  colonel  had  ample  funds  to  build  and  furnish 
a  house  equal  to  the  one  he  had  lost,  and  they 
were  content  to  wait.  Indeed;  we  have  observed, 
that  not  only  do  people  who  have  the  means  of  any 
gratification  in  their  power  exhibit  less  eagerness 
for  its  enjoyment ;  but  it  is  equally  true,  that  those 
who  have  once  possessed  the  luxuries  of  wealth, 
generally  submit  to  their  loss  with  a  much  better 
grace  than  people  who  have  never  known  any 
other  state,  endure  the  pressure  of  poverty.  The 
reason  is,  that  the  former  have  had  experience  of 
how  little  real  value  are  mere  superfluities  in  the 
cup  of  happiness,  while  the  latter  view  them 
through  the  exaggerated  medium  of  their  ima- 
gination. 

The  family  was  settled  in  the  new  log-palace, 
and  matters  going  on  in  the  usual  jog-trot 
way,  when  one  morning  Mrs.  Judith  Paddock, 
having  been  on  the  watch  for  some  time,  saw  the 
coast  clear,  and  sallied  forth  across  the  way  to 
pay  a  visit  to  Miss  Virginia  Dangerfield,  whom 
she  found,  as  she  wished,  alone.  That  young  lady 
did  not  much  covet  the  society  of  Mrs.  Judith, 
but  it  was  a  rule  of  the  house  never  to  refuse 
either  hospitality  or  politeness  to  any  but  the 
worthless.  The  good  woman  was  accordingly- 
received  with  due  kindness,  and  invited  to  sit 
down.  For  some  time  she  talked  of  matters  and 
things  in  general ;  then  she  came  to  particulars  ; 
condoled  with  Virginia  on  the  burning  of  the 
house ;  congratulated  her  on  her  escape,  and 
finally  uttering  a  deep  sigh,  stopped  her  ever- 
lasting tongue  for  a  moment. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Mrs.  Paddock  ?"  said  Vir- 
ginia. 

"  Ah  !— heigho  !— this  is  a  wicked  world." 


WESTWARD    HO  163 

"  It  has  indeed  rather  an  indifferent  reputation, 
but  what  induced  you  to  make  the  remark  just 
now  ?" 

"  Ah ! — heigho  !"  And  here  she  smoothed  her 
white  apron.  "  It's  a  scandalous  world,  a  very 
scandalous  world.  I  could  tell  such  things — but 
I'd  rather  cut  out  my  tongue  than  scandalize  any 
human  being,  not  even  so  much  as  a  nigger." 

Virginia  Knew  the  good  Mrs.  Judith  had  some- 
thing on  her  mind,  but  determined  not  to  be 
accessary  to  bringing  it  forth.  Perhaps  she  knew 
enough  of  her  to  know  that  she  would  hear  it 
without.  Mrs.  Judith  sighed,  and  smacked  her 
lips  again. 

"Ah !  who'd  have  thought  it,  who'd  have  thought 
it — such  a  nice  young  man  !" 

"Who,  Mrs.  Paddock,  your  husband?"  said 
Virginia,  smiling. 

"  No,  indeed,  Miss  Phiginny.  Ah  !  he's  an- 
other guess  sort  of  a  man.  But  what  a  shocking 
pity  it  is.  Heigho  !  it's  a  scandalous,  a  wicked 
world  this." 

"  Have  you  just  found  that  out,  Mrs.  Pad- 
dock r 

"  No,  indeed,  I'm  not  quite  such  a  fool,  Miss 
Phiginny  ;  but  I've  found  out  something  else." 

"  Ah  !"  Virginia  was  just  going  to  ask  what, 
but  checked  herself,  determined  to  be  innocent  of 
every  thing  except  listening.  Again  Mrs.  Judith 
sighed,  and  shook  her  ambrosial  curls. 

"Ah  !  what  a  nice  young  man  that  Mr.  Rains- 
ford  seems  to  be.  I  talk  to  him  sometimes  for 
hours,  and  he  don't  interrupt  me  a  single  word. 
O  !  he's  a  nice  young  man.  But — heigho  ! — 
what  a  wicked  world  we  live  in." 

Virginia  began  to  fidget  a  little,  and  it  was  just 


164  WESTWARD   HO! 

on  the  tip  of  her  tongue  to  inquire  what  Mrs. 
Judith  meant.  But  she  only  blushed. 

"  To  be  sure,  he  saved  your  life,  they  say.  But, 
heigho  ! — mercy  knows,  if  all  I  heard  is  true,  it 
was  the  least  thing  he  could  do  to  make  up  for 
the  life  he  took." 

"  What !  woman — Mrs.  Paddock — what  do  you 
say  ?  What  are  you  going  to  say  ?" 

u  Ah  !  its  such  a  scandalous  world— heigho  ! — 
such  a  wicked  world,  that  I'd  rather  not  tell  what 
I  know,  if  it  wasn't  that  I  think  it  my  bounden 
duty  to  you  and  the  colonel." 

Virginia  now  trembled  in  spite  of  herself,  and 
demanded  at  once  all  the  woman  knew.  Mrs. 
Paddock  drew  her  chair  closer  to  her  side,  and 
began  in  an  under  tone,  ever  and  anon  looking 
around  cautiously. 

"  You  must  know,  Miss  Phiginny,  that  though 
I  like  to  find  out  what  is  going  on  here  in  the  vil- 
lage, its  only  that  I  may  keep  it  a  secret  from 
everybody.  Especially,  you  know  it's  my  business 
to  know  all  about  people  that  live  in  our  house, 
else  they  might  be  horse-thieves  or  murderers;" — 
and  she  emphasised  the  word ; — "  and  I  be  never 
the  better  for  it.  So  I  think  it  my  duty  to  keep 
an  eye  upon  them,  and  if  I  see  or  hear  any  thing 
suspicious,  why,  I  follow  it  up,  until,  I  warrant 
you,  I  ferret  it  out,  somehow  or  other.  Well," 
and  here  she  drew  her  chair  closer  to  Virginia, 
who  turned  pale  at  this  awful  preface.  "Well. 
I  somehow,  I  hardly  can  tell  how,  for  I  assure 
you  I  never  listened  at  his  keyhole,  or — or — 
peeped,  in  at  his  window,  I  often  saw  Mr.  Rains- 
ford,  if  his  name  is  indeed  Rainsford,  in  great 
distress  ;  and  heard  him  groan  late  at  night, 
and  walk  across  the  floor.  Well,  putting  odds 


WESTWARD  no!  165 

and  ends  together,  says  I  to  myself,  says  I,  '  It 
that  young  man  hasn't  got  something  on  his  mind 
that  hadn't  ought  to  be  there,  my  name  isn't  Ju- 
dith Squires,'  that's  my  maiden-name,  Miss.  'And,' 
says  I,  c  it's  my  duty  to  find  it  out,  that  I  may  keep 
it  a  secret' from  everybody  like,  you  know.'  " 

"  Well,  well,  go  on,  Mrs.  Paddock.  Let  me 
know  the  worst." 

"  Ah  !  bad  enough  in  all  conscience,  Miss  Phi- 
ginny.  Well,  you  see,  I  kindly,  you  know,  turned 
the  conversation  upon  different  sorts  of  wicked- 
ness,— ah !  this  is  a  wicked  world ! — just  to  see 
if  I  could  find  out  something  from  his  looks,  or 
words,  or  actions,  you  know.  Well,  I  talked 
about  stealing  horses ;  and  how  the  regulators 
served  a  horse-thief  once  ;  they  tied  him  to  a  tree 
and  whipped  him.  But  I  couldn't  see  any  thing 
that  looked  like  a  guilty  conscience ;  and  so  an- 
other time  I  told  him  of  a  man  that  robbed  a  trav- 
eller who  was  coming  to  buy  land,  and  had  his 
pocket-book  full  of  money,  but  he  looked  as  inno- 
cent-like as  a  child.  And  so  I  went  on,  talking  of 
all  sorts  of  bad  things,  without  stirring  his  con- 
science at  all,  as  I  could  see.  When,  one  day — 
ah !  this  is  a  wicked  world ! — one  day,  it  was 
yesterday  three  weeks,  I  believe.  Yes,  it  was 
yesterday  three  weeks.  I  happened  to  be  telling 
him  about  Mrs.  Fudgell,  poor  soul,  who,  you 
know,  went  mad  with  religion,  the  year  before 
last,  and  killed  her  child,  you  know.  Well,  if  he 
didn't  jump  up  as  if  he  had  been  shot,  and  he 
cried  out,  '  What,  murder  her  own  child  !  Oh 
God !  Oh  God !  that  ever  I  was  born  for  such 
misery  !'  and  he  snatched  his  hat  and  ran  out 
of  the  room  as  if  the  sheriff  had  been  after  him. 
Now,  putting  all  these  things  together, — Heigho  f 


166  WESTWARD   HO1. 

/ 

If  this  was  not  such  a  scandalous  world,  I  should 
say  that  Mr.  Rainsford  had — " 

"What?"  shrieked  Virginia. 
f  •    "  The  weight  of  blood  on  his  conscience.     I 
saw  a  man  hanged  once  for  murder  that  looked 
as  much  like  him  as  two  peas." 

The  idea  was  too  horrible,  and  yet  there  cer- 
tainly was  something  in  his  conduct,  altogether 
strange,  mysterious,  and  inexplicable.  But  Vir- 
ginia thrust  the  grinning  fiend  suspicion  from  her 
with  a  mighty  effort,  and  looking,  with  a  pale 
countenance  of  severity  at  Mrs.  Judith,  warned 
her  solemnly  against  indulging  or  uttering  such 
ridiculous  slanders.  She  summoned  all  her 
powers  of  reasoning  to  convince  her  of  the  utter 
improbability  of  such  a  man  being  stained  with 
such  a  crime ;  she  held  up  to  her  view  the  cruelty 
of  imputing  such  deep  guilt  to  a  stranger,  whose 
conduct  since  his  residence  among  them  had  been 
kind,  benevolent,  and  praiseworthy,  in  every  re- 
spect ;  and  she  drew  from  Mrs.  Judith  a  promise 
that  she  would  never  tell  to  any  other  human 
being  what  she  had  just  disclosed  to  her.  "As  for 
me,"  cried  Virginia,  "  I  would  as  soon  suspect  mv 
father." 

"  Yes,  and  so  would  I.  But  ah  !  heigho  ! — it's 
a  very  wicked  and  scandalous  world  this." 

Mrs.  Judith  took  her  leave,  and  Virginia  re- 
mained buried  in  the  gloom  of  a  painful]  melan- 
choly revery  long  after  her  departure. 


WESTWARD   HO!  167 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Showing  how  little  reason  one  generation*  hath  to  laugh 
at  another. 

THE  evening  of  the  day  on  which  the  forego- 
ing |  interview  took  place  Rainsford  spent  at  the 
house  of  Colonel  Dangerfield.  He  was  more  than 
usually  elevated  in  the  early  part  of  the  visit,  and 
surprised  as  well  as  charmed  them  all,  with  the 
knowledge  and  intelligence  he  displayed.  He 
sketched  the  manners  and  fashions  of  the  day 
with  spirit,  mingled  with  no  little  spice  of  satire, 
and^exhibited  a  perfect  knowledge  of  the  subject. 
It  was  evident  that  he  had  mixed  with  the  great 
world,  and  Colonel  Dangerfield  was  pleased  at  an 
opportunity  of  recalling  his  own  recollections  of 
the  early  part  of  his  life. 

"  And  is  it  possible,"  said  Virginia,  "  that  the 
young  children  dress  like  old  people,  and  the  old 
people  like  young  children  ?" 

"  It  is  true,  I  assure  you.  I  have  often  walked 
behind  a  lady  in  the  street,  whom  I  took  for  one  in 
the  bloom  of  youth,  she  was  so  bedizened  with 
flounces  and  flowers,  and  quickened  my  pace  to 
get  a  sight  of  her  face  ;  when  lo,  and  behold,  it 
turned  out  to  be  that  of  a  grandmother." 

"  Well,  I  suppose  the  elderly  gentlemen  are 
more'discreet  ?" 

"  Why,  I  can't  say  much  in  their  favour.  For 
aught  I  saw,  they  were  as  much  inclined  to  out- 
rage nature  and  propriety  as  the  venerable  old 


1G8  WESTWARD   HO! 

ladies.  The  dandies  of  threescore  were  as  plenty 
as  the  belles  of  a  certain  age,  and  emulated  that 
deportment  which,  though  it  constitutes  the  charm 
of  youth,  is  the  reproach  of  old  age." 

"And  the  poor  little  children  T 

"Ay,  the  poor  little  children,  you  may  well 
call  them.  If  you  could  only  see  the  figures 
their  mistaken  parents  make  of  them,  you'd 
scarcely  know  whether  they  were  premature 
old  ladies,  or  premature  young  ones.  They  are 
absolutely  crippled  with  finery,  so  that  all  the 
grace  and  vivacity  of  youth  is  smothered  under  a 
load  of  many-coloured  trumpery,  and  they  waddle 
along  like  so  many  little  caricatures  of  the  pigmy 
race.  I  declare  to  you  that  nothing  is  more  com- 
mon than  to  see  a  little  girl  of  three  years  old 
going  to  school  with  her  hair  in  papers." 

"  O,  now  I  am  sure  you  are  jesting  ?" 

"  No,  indeed,  Miss  Dangerfield,  it  is  quite  im- 
possible for  me  to  do  justice  to  the  masquerade 
figures  you  see  in  the  fashionable  promenade  of 
a  fashionable  city,  at  the  fashionable  hour  when 
the  fashionable  people  are  abroad.  They  seem 
dressed,  not  for  walking,  but  for  an  assembly :  they 
appear  to  forget  that  good  taste  is  nothing  else 
than  good  sense  applied  to  a  particular  object ; 
and  that  every  thing  which  impedes  the  freedom 
of  the  person  must  be  essentially  unbecoming 
and  ungraceful." 

"  From  what  you  say,  dress  must  be  the  reign- 
ing foible  of  the  age." 

"  It  is  indeed,  and,  what  is  still  worse,  it  is  no 
longer  possible  to  distinguish  people  by  their  dress, 
for  all  dress  alike,  from  the  mistress  to  the  maid 
from  the  parlour  to  the  kitchen," 


WESTWARD   HO  I  169 

"How  ridiculous  and  absurd !"  exclaimed  Vir- 
ginia. 

"Why  so  ridiculous  and  absurd?"  asked  the 
colonel,  who  had  been  attending  to  the  conversa- 
tion without  joining  in  it. 

"  Why,  my  dear  father,  is  it  not  palpably  ridi- 
culous and  absurd  for  people  to  dress  all  alike 
when  their  situations  are  all  different  ?" 

"  Not  if  they  have  the  means  of  doing  so  with- 
out sacrificing  what  is  of  more  consequence  than 
outward  appearance.  If  the  mistress  dress  like 
an  opera-dancer,  it  would  be  hard  to  prevent  the 
maid  from  making  a  fool  of  herself  too." 

"But,  sir,"  said  Rainsford,  "ought  not  every 
person  to  dress  according  to  their  means  and  occu- 
pations ?" 

"  O,  certainly,  always  according  to  their  means, 
and  agreeably  to  their  occupations  when  they  are 
engaged  in  them.  But  on  Sundays  and  holydays, 
when  all  are  gentlemen  and  ladies,  if  the  indus- 
trious tradesman,  or  the  industrious  man  or  maid- 
servant, purchase  a  suit  of  broadcloth  or  a  silken 
gown,  faith  I  don't  see  that  anybody  has  a  right 
to  complain,  provided  they  have  the  means  and 
the  honesty  to  pay  for  it." 

"  But,  sir,  to  dress  in  all  the  preposterous  ex- 
travagance of  the  fashion  !" 

"  Well,  the  fault  is  in  the  preposterous  extrava- 
gance of  the  fashion,  and  in  those  who  set  the 
example,  not  those  who  follow  it.  The  young 
imitate  the  elder  and  wiser,  the  child  copies  the 
parent,  and  the  lower  classes  always  look  up  to 
the  higher.  All  these  last  have  to  do  is  to  set 
them  a  good  example,  instead  of  complaining  that 
they  follow  a  bad  one." 

"  But  don't  you  think  the  universal  propensity 

VOL,  i, — H  15 


170  WESTWARD   HO! 

of  all  classes  of  people,  high  and  low,  in  this  coun- 
try, to  indulgence  of  every  kind,  a  great  evil  ?" 

"  Perhaps  I  do  ;  but  we  must  bear  in  mind  that 
superfluity  is  the  parent  of  extravagance.  When 
civilized  people  are  restricted  in  their  means  to 
the  narrow  circle  of  the  actual  wants  of  nature, 
they  will  necessarily  be  economical ;  but  when, 
by  the  exercise  of  any  ordinary  trade  or  occupa- 
tion, they  can  earn  more  than  this,  the  surplus 
constitutes  either  a  fund  for  saving  or  a  fund  for 
spending.  In  this  country  every  man  can,  if  he 
pleases,  earn  more  than  is  requisite  for  the  pur- 
poses of  mere  necessity.  It  is  the  boast  and  the 
blessing  of  us  all  that  this  is  the  case.  But  all 
sublunary  blessings  have  their  drawbacks ;  we 
must  take  the  evil  with  the  good,  and  compound 
for  a  disposition  to  luxury  and  extravagance  in 
the  lower  orders,  on  the  score  of  the  universal 
diffusion  of  competency  among  all  classes." 

"  I  never  saw  such  caricatures,"  exclaimed  Vir- 
ginia, looking  at  some  milliners'  costumes  which 
Rainsford  happened  to  have  brought  with  him 
as  curiosities  ;  "  look  here,  sir — only  do  look  here, 
mother !" 

Mrs.  Dangerfield  laughed,  as  well  she  might ; 
and  Virginia  continued  to  declare  that  never  was 
any  thing  so  absurd  as  the  dresses  of  the  little 
children. 

"  Come  here,  Virginia,"  said  her  father,  taking 
her  hand,  and  leading  her  opposite  to  where  hung 
a  picture,  which  had  been  rescued  from  the  flames 
of  the  old  mansion  by  the  piety  of  the  great  Pom- 
pey  Ducklegs,  and  which  exhibited  the  precise 
effigies  and  suits  of  a  little  boy  and  girl  in  the  age 
of  bag  wigs,  mighty  cuffs,  high-quartered  shoes, 
hoop  petticoats,  whalebone  stays,  ?md  lofty  head- 


WESTWARD   HO!  171 

gear ;  "  look  there,  Virginia ;  and  I  beg  of  you  to 
refrain  from  committing  the  indecorum  of  laugh- 
ing at  your  grandfather,  when  I  tell  you  that  at 
the  age  of  twelve  years  he  wore  that  identical 
wig,  that  veritable  buckram  coat  with  sheet-iron 
skirts,  that  mortal  pair  of  cuffs,  those  indescribable 
indispensables,  and  that  most  formidable  sword  of 
most  formidable  length.  The  little  girl — but  don't 
laugh  at  her,  Virginia ;  she  was  thy  great-aunt, 
and  thou  art  her  namesake.  She  died  the  year 
you  were  born — but  the  subject  is  a  melancholy 
one.  What  think  you  of  a  young  gentleman  and 
lady  of  fourscore  years  ago,  compared  with  their 
successors  of  the  present  day  ?" 

"  Why,  really,  sir,  it  seems  to  me  that  if  the 
present  day  has  gained  nothing,  it  has  lost  nothing 
in  the  way  of  dressing  little  children." 

"  You  say  true,  my  dear ;  those  who  talk  about 
one  age  being  essentially  wiser  and  better  than 
another  talk  little  less  than  sheer  nonsense.  Hu- 
man nature,  while  it  approaches  perfectibility  on 
one  hand,  recedes  from  it  on  the  other ;  where  it 
gains  on  the  right,  it  loses  on  the  left,  like  our 
great  river  Mississippi,  which  tears  away  its  banks 
only  to  form  a  new  deposite  at  its  mouth :  thus 
creating  a  new  world  in  the  ocean  from  the  spoils 
of  the  old.  Every  succeeding  age  is  only  a  new 
edition  of  the  past." 

"  With  improvements  T  said  Rainsford. 

"  With  alterations  in  the  binding  rather  than 
the  contents,  I  doubt.  And  now,  my  dear,  as  the 
vicar  of  Wakefield  said,  'Go  help  your  mother 
make  the  goose-pie.' "  The  young  damsel  accord- 
ingly left  the  room  to  pursue  her  domestic  avoca- 
tions. 


172  WESTWARD   HO! 

"  Whoop !"  exclaimed  a  voice  without,  which 
they  all  recognised  as  that  of  Busmield. 

"  Come  in,  come  in,"  cried  the  colonel. 

"  Come  in  !  why,  ain't  I  in  ?"  exclaimed  he,  as 
he  entered  in  a  great  flurry,  and  seated  himself. 
"  What  a  race  I've  had.  I'll  be  goy  blamed  if  I 
haven't  bin  trying  to  catch  this  squirrel — a  fair 
chase,  and  no  favours  asked.  There  we  were  at 
rip  and  tuck,  up  one  tree  and  down  another.  He 
led  me  a  dance  all  the  way  from  kingdom  come 
till  I  got  just  by  the  village  here ;  and  what  do 
you  think?  I  had  to  shoot  the  trifling  cretur 
after  all.  He  got  up  on  the  top  of  the  highest 
tree  prehaps  you  ever  did  see  ;  so  I  let  him  have 
it,  just  for  being  so  obstinate." 

"  An  excellent  shot,"  said  the  colonel ;  "  you've 
hit  him  in  the  eye,  I  see." 

"  O  no,  it  isn't,  but  I  was  mad ;  no,  no,  it's  a 
disgraceful  shot — what  I  call  a  full  huckleberry 
below  a  persimmon  ;  for  when  I  want  the  skin  of 
one  of  these  fellers,  I  always  shoot  a  leetle  before 
his  nose,  and  then  the  wind  of  the  ball  takes  the 
varmint's  breath  clean  away,  and  I  don't  hurt  the 
fur." 

"  You  must  have  had  some  practice,"  said  Rains- 
ford. 

"  I'll  be  goy  blamed  if  you  wouldn't  think  so,  if 
you  only  knew  me  as  well  as  I  know  my  old 
rifle." 

"  I  should  like  to  go  out  with  you  one  of  these 
times,  if  there  is  good  sport  in  your  part  of  the 
world." 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  call  good  sport,"  cried 

Bushfield^  who  had  now  got  on  his  hpbby,  "  but 

I  'partly  conceit    if  you  had  been  with  me  one 

,  day  last  fall  you'd  have  thought  so,     TMW  a  deer 


WESTWARD   HO!  173 

and  its  fawn  across  a  creek  the  other  side  of  the 
mountain,  and  I  wasn't  altogether  slow  in  letting 
fly,  I  tell  you.  The  ball  ranged  them  both.  I 
had  to  wade  through  the  creek,  and  I  found  the 
ball  had  entered  in  a  hollow  tree,  after  going  right 
clean  through  the  two  deer,  where  there  was  a 
hive  of  honey,  and  the  honey  was  running  away 
like  all  natur  ;  so  I  stooped  down  to  pick  up  some- 
thing to  stop  it,  when  I  put  my  hand  on  a  rabbit 
hid  under  a  great  toadstool.  But  somehow  or 
other,  coming-  across  the  creek,  my  trousers  had 
got  so  full  of  fish,  that  one  of  the  buttons  burst 
clean  off,  and  I  will  agree  to  be  eternally  derned 
if  it  didn't  hit  a  wild  turkey  right  in  the  left  eye. 
Whoop  !  ain't  I  a  horse?" 

"  A  whole  team,  I  should  think,"  said  Rainsford, 
highly  amused  with  the  eccentric  rhodomontade 
of  the  woodman.  Virginia  happening  at  this  mo- 
ment to  enter,  he  addressed  her  with  a  good-hu- 
moured kind  of  audacity, — 

"You  neat  little  varmint,  have  you  got  any 
thing  for  supper?  for  may  I  be  lost  in  a  cane- 
brake,  as  I  once  was  when  I  first  came  to  these 
parts,  if  I  ain't  transcendently  hungry.  I  could 
eat  like  all  wrath." 

Supper  was  brought  in,  and  Bushfield  made  "  a 
most  transcendent  supper."  The  company  con- 
tinued sitting  round  the  table  enjoying  this  little 
social  meal,  which  was  once  the  evening  tattoo 
that  brought  all  the  family  together,  but  which 
is  now  elbowed  out  of  the  circle  of  domestic  econ- 
omy into  drawing-rooms  and  saloons,  and  might 
rather  be  called  the  morning  breakfast  than  the 
evening  supper.  Virginia,  who  had  a  mischievous 
little  female  relish  for  humour,  and  who  could 
enter  into  that  of  Bushfield,  which,  indeed;  though 


174  WESTWARD   HO! 

odd  and  extravagant,  had  nothing  in  it  partaking 
of  vulgarity,  took  occasion  to  question  him  as  to 
the  particulars  of  the  story  of  his  being  lost  in  the 
cane-brake  to  which  he  had  alluded. 

"  Well,  I  know  you  want  to  have  a  laugh  at 
me  ;  but  howsomever,  I  don't  so  much  mind  being 
laughed  at  by  a  woman,  and  so  I'll  tell  you  the 
story  for  all  that ;  and  you  may  laugh  anyhow, 
as  you're  not  a  man.  I  was  out  after  a  bear  that 
had  been  about  my  hut  several  nights,  and  he  led 
me  such  a  dance  !  I  wasn't  such  a  keen  hand  at 
finding  my  way  then,  and  at  last  I  got  into  a  cane- 
brake  along  the  river,  where  the  canes  stood  so 
thick,  I  wish  I  may  be  shot  if  you  could  put  the 
leetle  eend  of  a  small  needle  between  them  with- 
out spectacles.  Well,  I  was  ripping  and  tearing 
away  to  get  out,  but  only  got  deeper  and  deeper 
in  the  plaguy  place  ;  when  all  at  once  I  heard  the 
queerest  noise  I  ever  came  across  in  all  my  days, 
though  I've  heard  a  pretty  considerable  variety, 
and  I  then  thought  I  knew  all  the  notes  of  the 
varmints,  from  the  growl  of  a  bear  to  the  screech 
of  a  panther.  But  I  could  make  nothing  of  this, 
and  began  to  keep  a  sharp  look  out,  which  was 
hardly  worth  while,  for  I  couldn't  see  to  the  end 
of  my  eyelashes,  the  canes  were  so  transcendent 
close  together.  Well,  I  cut  and  slashed  about, 
and  every  now  and  then  heard  the  queer  noise ; 
at  last  it  was  so  close  to  me,  that  I  pricked  my 
ears  and  cocked  my  gun,  to  be  ready  to  take  keer 
of  myself  in  case  of  risk.  Well,  as  1  kept  on  rip- 
ping and  tearing  about,  at  last  I  came  smack  on 
the  drollest-looking  thing,  prehaps,  you  ever  laid 
your  eyes  on.  It  sat  all  in  a  heap,  like  the  feller 
that  found  sixpence  apenny  in  a  place,  with  its 
head  down  below  its  shoulders,  and  its  hair  all 


WESTWARD   HO!  175 

hanging  about  like  the  beard  of  a  buffalo  bull'. 
1  Whoop  !'  said  I;  and  the  varmint  raised  its  head, 
when  I  wish  I  may  be  shot  if  it  didn't- turn  out  a 
real  he  Ingen. 

" ( Hullo  !'  said  I,  l  what  trade  are  you  carrying 
on  here,  friend  ?'  but  I  must  say  I  had  a  mind 
to  shoot  the  feller,  though  I  hadn't  then  the  same 
cause  I  have  now  to  hate  the  varmints.  How- 
ever, I  thought  I'd  first  see  whether  he'd  make 
battle  or  no  ;  so  I  waited  to  hear  what  he  had  to 
say.  But  when  I  spoke  to  him,  all  he  did  was  to 
grin  and  growl  just  like  a  lame  bear.  ( I  say  now, 
stranger,'  says  I,  i  what  may  you  be  about  here  V — 
'  R — r — r — r  !'  said  he,  and  grinned  like  a  mon- 
key. l  Well  then,'  said  I,  '  if  you  don't  choose  to 
tell  what  you're  about,  maybe,  prehaps,  you  will 
tell  where  you  happened  to  come  from  ?'  '  R — r 
— r — r  !'  said  the  varmint  again.  '  Well  then,  pre- 
haps you'll  tell  me  where  you  are  going  ?'  '  R — r 
— r — r  !'  I  began  to  be  a  little  mad,  and  had  a 
transcendent  mind  to  shoot  him  ;  but  somehow 
or  other  I  held  back,  until  I  came  up  and  took 
hold  of  his  shoulder,  and  shook  him  like  a  bottle 
of  bitters  ;  when  I  wish  I  may  be  goy  blamed  if 
he  didn't  spring  up  higher  than  the  top  of  the 
cane-brake,  and  give  a  great  whoop,  and  scamper 
off  like  a  flash  of  lightning.  I  followed  the  trail  he 
made  ;  it  led  me  down  to  the  river.  Then  I  knew 
where  I  was,  and  I  was  so  pleased  with  the  cretur 
for  showing  me  the  way,  that,  somehow  or  other 
kindly,  I  couldn't  harm  him,  and  he  got  off  clear 
that  time,  anyhow." 

"I'm  glad  of  that,"  said  Virginia;  "it  would 
have  been  barbarous  to  hurt  the  poor  creature." 

"  I  don't  know,"  returned  the  other ;  "  for  it 
turned  out  he  was  a  crazy  Ingen,  that  was  let  run 


176         -  WESTWARD   HO! 

about  by  his  tribe,  because  these  people  have  a 
sort  of  superstitious  respect  for  such  characters. 
I  afterwards  heard  he  got  into  a  white  station 
when  the  men  were  away,  and  murdered  two  or 
three  women  and  children.  I  only  wish  I  had 
known  what  was  to  happen,  and  may  I  be  eter- 
nally condemned  to  live  in  a  big  city  like  Lex- 
ington if  I  wouldn't  have  winged  him,  if  he  had 
been  as  mad  as  a  buffalo  bull  that  has  had  a  rifle- 
ball  flattened  against  his  forehead." 

No  one  but  Virginia  noticed  that  during  the 
latter  part  of  this  story  Rainsford  laboured  under 
a  suppressed  agitation,  which  he  strove  to  conceal 
with  all  his  might.  But  when  Bushfield  came  to 
the  catastrophe,  the  arm  which  the  young  man 
had  thrown  over  the  back  of  her  chair  trembled  so 
violently  as  to  communicate  to  it  a  tremulous  mo- 
tion, which  thrilled  to  her  very  heart.  As  if  by  a 
violent  effort,  he  rose,  and,  scarcely  bidding  good 
night,  departed  abruptly.  That  night  Virginia 
lay  for  hours  thinking  of  the  tale  of  Mrs.  Judith 
Paddock,  and  sometimes  coming  to  a  conclusion 
which  alternately  thrilled  her  with  a  dry  and 
parching  horror,  or  wetted  her  pillow  with  tears. 


HO!  17? 


CHAPTER  XX. 

'''•How  sweet  in  the  woodlands" 

THE  morning  opened  brightly,  and  the  sun 
shone  with  a  newly-awakened  warmth  that  indi- 
cated f.hd  gradual  approaches  of  spring.  Its 
balmy  influence  chased  away  the  dark  shadows 
which  the  midnight  fancy  conjures  up  in  silence 
and  obscurity,  and  the  vague  horrors  which  had 
beset  the  pillow  of  Virginia  vanished  like  spectres 
at  the  dawn  of  day.  Few  that  have  traced  the 
map  of  their  own  minds  but  must  have  been 
struck  with  the  different  views  and  feelings  which 
govern  the  different  periods  of  the  day,  and  re- 
marked how  often  the  decisions  of  the  pillow  are 
reversed  by  the  hurry,  the  bustle,  the  excitements, 
and  temptations  of  the  busy,  sprightly  morning. 
Imagination  is  the  queen  of  darkness  ;  night  the 
season  of  her  despotism.  But  daylight,  by  pre- 
senting a  thousand  objects  to  the  eye,  the  hearing, 
and  the  touch,  restores  the  empire  of  the  senses, 
and,  from  being  the  sport  of  fancy,  we  become 
the  slaves  of  realities. 

Rainsford  did  not  make  his  appearance  at  the 
house  of  Colonel  Dangerfield  for  several  days 
after  his  abrupt  exit  as  recorded  in  the  last  chap- 
ter. He  accompanied  Bushfield  on  a  visit  to  his 
hermitage,  under  pretence  of  taking  lessons  in 
hunting,  but  in  reality  partly  to  escape  the  prying 
curiosity,  the  sociable  visits  of  Mrs.  Judith,  and 
partly  from  the  apprehensive  timidity  of  his  mind, 


178  WESTWARD   HO! 

which  suggested  to  him  that  he  had  made  him- 
self conspicuous  by  his  emotions  on  the  occasion 
to  which  we  have  before  alluded. 

The  habitation  of  this  Indian  white  man,  as  the 
savages  called  him,  was  simply  a  log  cabin,  the 
appurtenances  of  which  were  barely  sufficient  for 
the  purposes  of  eating  and  sleeping.  The  forest 
supplied  him  with  food,  such  as  is  considered  the 
most  delicate  among  the  disciples  of  luxury ;  the 
skins  of  the  deer  and  the  bear  furnished  him  with 
bed  and  clothing ;  his  rifle  was  his  purse ;  his 
powder  and  shot  his  ready  cash ;  for  they  alibrded 
him  the  medium  of  exchange  for  every  thing 
which  they  did  not  themselves  enable  him  to  pro- 
cure in  the  surrounding  forest.  Bushfield  never 
rode,  it  made  him  so  tired,  he  said ;  and  Rains- 
ford  was  heartily  fatigued  when  they  came  upon 
,  the  solitary  cabin,  after  scouring  the  woods  in 
their  way.  His  companion  was  frequently  obliged 
to  wait  for  him,  and  very  often  he  would  have 
been  inevitably  lost  in  the  mazes  of  the  trackless 
wild,  had  not  the  Indian  whoop  of  his  companion 
served  to  recall  him  from  his  wanderings.  He 
had  been  induced  to  take  a  rifle  with  him,  but 
sorely  repented  his  temerity,  for  its  weight  wea- 
ried him  at  length  almost  beyond  endurance  ;  be- 
sides, though  they  met  plenty  of  game,  it  so  hap- 
pened that  Rainsford  always  missed,  while  the 
other  never  failed.  No  man  likes  to  be  outdone, 
even  in  what  he  does  not  value  himself  upon ;  and 
no  man,  perhaps,  cordially  respects  another  who 
is  totally  ignorant  of  that  in  which  he  himself 
excels.  Bushfield  sometimes  got  a  little  out  of 
patience  with  Rainsford,  and  Rainsford  often  en- 
vied Bushfield  his  skill  in  the  rifle.  In  the  crowded 
city  such  an  accomplishment  would  have  been 


WESTWARD  HO!  179 

bentath  his  attention,  but  in  the  forest  it  was  held 
the  standard  of  manhood. 

"  Stranger/'  said  Bushfield,  on  occasion  of  the 
other  missing  a  squirrel  which  was  crouching  at 
the  summit  of  a  tree  of  moderate  height,  and 
which  had  been  resigned  to  him  as  an  easy  shot ; 
"  stranger,  I  reckon  you  haven't  had  the  advan- 
tage of  being  raised  in  the  woods,  anyhow :  why, 
I  could  have  brought  down  that  squirrel  with  both 
eyes  shut,  let  alone  one." 

"  No  ;  I  had  the  misfortune  to  be  brought  up 
in  a  city,  where  nobody  carries  a  gun,  except  the 
militia." 

"  Nobody  carry  a  gun !  why,  what  do  they 
carry  then,  a  dirk  ?" 

"  No  ;  the  young  gentlemen  sometimes  carry  a 
switch  about  as  thick  as  my  little  finger." 

"  A  switch !  why,  what  would  they  do  now, 
supposing  they  were  to  come  right  face  to 
face  with  a  bear  or  an  Ingen?  what  a  mighty 
figure  they'd  cut." 

"  Yes  ;  but  there  are  neither  bears  nor  Indians 
to  fear." 

"  Sure  that's  true  enough ;  for  I  remember  when 
I  went  home  to  North  Carolina,  to  see  the  old 
place,  I'll  be  shot  if  there  wasn't  a  little  varmint 
of  a  town  built  right  smack  on  the  spot  that  used 
to  be  one  of  the  best  deer  stations  in  the  whole 
country.  I  couldn't  stand  that,  no,  that  was  too 
bad,  so  I  cut  a  stick  and  made  tracks,  and  came 
back  to  my  old  range  ;  but  they  won't  let  a  feller 
aione  where  he  has  plenty  of  elbow-room,  and  I 
begin  to  think  of  leaving  here  soon,  and  carrying 
a  trail  across  the  Mississippi,  anyhow." 

"Why  so?" 


180  WESTWARD   HO! 

"Why,  I'll  tell  you,  stranger.  It's  getting  too 
dense  hereabouts." 

"  Dense  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  the  people  are  getting  too  close  toge- 
ther, they  han't  elbow-room.  Why,  do  you  know 
there's  a  feller  has  had  the  impudence  to  locate 
himself  over  yonder,  within  three  miles  of  me. 
I  saw  the  smoke  of  his  chimney  the  other  morn- 
ing, and  heard  a  strange  dog  bark ;  so  I  tracked 
the  feller,  and  put  it  to  him  if  he  wasn't  ashamed 
to  come  and  disturb  a  man  in  this  unneighbouiiy 
manner.  Bym-by,  says  I  to  him,  a  man  won't 
have  room  to  turn  round  here  without  hitting 
somebody's  elbow,  and  the  upshot  of  the  business 
is,  that  either  you  or  I  must  cut  a  stick  and  quit 
this  hunting-ground,  or  I'll  see  if  I  can't  make 
you,  anyhow." 

«  Well,  and  did  he  cut  a  stick?" 

"  Not  he,  the  rantanckerous  squatter  !  he  said 
he  had  as  good  a  right  there  as  any  bear  or  wolf 
that  ever  broke  bread ;  as  good  as  I  had,  that 
have  been  in  possession  here  ever  since  old 
Rogers  Clarke  licked  the  Ingens  so  beautifully. 
I'm  a  considerable  old  feller  now,  and  followed 
close  on  the  trail  of  old  Boone,  and  it's  a  mighty 
pretty  piece  of  nonsense  if  I  han't  a  right  to  the 
country  about  here,  as  much  as  I  can  throw  a 
stick  at ;  and  I  wish  I  may  be  dragged  head  fore- 
most through  a  thorn-bush,  if  this  interloper  sha'n't 
clear  out  pretty  considerably  in  a  hurry,  or  I'll  be 
down  upon  him  like  all  wrath,  anyhow.  I'd  as 
good  a  mind  as  I  ever  had  to  shoot  a  wild  deer,  to 
have  a  fight  with  him  oif  the  reel,  and  settle  the 
right  of  soil  at  once ;  but  then  I  bethought  my- 
fself  he  njight  listen  to  reason  some  other  time. 


WESTWARD    HO.  181 

and  so  I  told  him  I'd  give  him  till  next  month  to 
make  tracks,  or  make  up  his  mind  to  get  a  most 
almighty  licking,  if  nothing-  else.  But  whoop  !" 
cried"  he,  in  a  wild  voice,  that  rung  through  the 
woods,  and  roused  the  inmates  of  a  rude  cabin, 
consisting  of  a  litter  of  puppies  and  an  old  black 
woman,  with  hair  as  white  as  snow,  who  came 
out  to  welcome  their  master. 

"  Well,  here  we  are,  old  Snowball', "  cried  Bush- 
field,  who  seemed  delighted  to  get  home  :  "  here 
we  are,  and  I  doirt  think  there's  many  such  places 
as  this  betwixt  here  and  kingdom  come.  Come 
in,  come  in,  stranger,  you're  right  welcome  ;  but 
there's  no  use  in  telling  a  man  what  everybody 
knows,  anyhow." 

Old  Mammy  Phi  His, — that  was  the  pastoral 
name  of  Bushfield's  housekeeper, — was  one  of 
those  unaccountable  creatures,  as  he  called  her. 
who,  with  the  appearance  of  age  and  decrepitude, 
are  capable  of  undergoing  great  labour  and 
fatigue.  Like  old  ricketty  machines,  they  seem 
to  keep  going  from  the  mere  force  of  habit,  long 
after  the  parts  which  compose  them  are  dislocated 
or  worn  out. 

"Come,  come,  mammy,  stir  these  old  stumps  of 
yours,  and  get  us  something  to  eat ;  I'm  as  hungry 
as  a  whole  team  of  horses.  What  have  you  got 
to  treat  us  with,  hey  T 

l-  Sum  deer  meat,  massa." 

-  Well,  cook  us  a  steak,  in  less  than  no  time. 
That  old  sinner  is  the  plague  of  my  life/'  con- 
tinued Bushfteld,  "  I  wish  I'd  bin  swamped  in  the 
Mississippi  before  I  was  fool  enough  to  bring  her 
here.  I  find  there's  no  such  thing  as  being'one's 
own  master  as  long  as  a  man  has  any  company 
about  him.  He's  like  a  nail  in  a  piece  of  timber : 


182  WESTWARD    HO! 

he  can't  move  one  way  nor  t'other,  and  there  he 
sticks  as  straight  as  a  pine-tree,  till  he  grows  rusty 
and  drops  out.  I  never  could  find  out  how  you 
manage  to  live  without  doing  just  what  you  like 
and  going  where  you  please,  anyhow,  i^or  my 
part,  stranger,  1  can't  fetch  my  breath  anywhere 
except  in  all  out-doors,  and  had  sooner  lay  down 
on  a  bed  of  leaves  with  a  sky  blanket,  than  sleep 
on  one  of  your  hard  feather-beds,  that  pretty  nigh 
break  a  man's  bones.  I  wish  I  may  be  hoppled  all 
my  life  to  come,  if  I  didn't  once  get  within  a 
huckleberry  of  being  smothered  to  death  in  one 
of  them  beds  with  curtains  all  round  'em.  Catch 
me  there  agin,  and  I'll  give  you  leave  to  curry- 
comb me,  anyhow.  How  under  the  sun  do  you 
make  out  to  live  in  such  a  queer  way,  stranger  ?" 

"  Custom  familiarizes  us,  and  then  the  pleasures 
of  society  make  amends  for  the  want  of  perfect 
freedom  of  action." 

"  Society  !  I'd  as  soon  think  of  getting  used  to 
be  handcuffed,  or  hoppled,  as  we  do  our  horses  to 
keep  ?em  from  straying  away  in  the  woods. 
There's  nothing  I  ever  did  in  all  my  life  that  1 
wish  the  d — 1  had  me  so  much  for  doing,  as  bring- 
ing that  old  Snowball  home  here  ;  for  somehow 
or  other,  I've  never  rightly  had  my  own  way  since 
she  came.  The  cretur  is  always  in  my  way, 
and  sometimes  I  catch  her  great  goggle  eyes 
set  upon  me,  so  that  I  seem  tied  "fast  to  my 
seat,  and  altogether  am  as  good  as  a  nigger  my- 
self." 

"  Well,  but  I  suppose  you  have  your  own  way 
for  all  that?" 

"  Have  my  own  way !  what  d'ye  take  me  for, 
stranger?  wasn't  I  born,  no,  not  born,  but  raised 
in  Old  Kentuck ;  and  d'ye  think  I  wouldn't  havo 


WESTWARD   HO!  1S3 

my  way  and  my  say,  if  an  earthquake  stood  oil 
one  side  and  a  flash  of  lightning  on  the  other, 
and  crossed  their  arms  right  before  me,  as  much 
as  to  say,  stand  where  you  are  ?  But  a  man  may 
have  his  own  way,  and  yet  somehow  or  other  not 
do  just  as  he  pleases  after  all." 

"  I  don't  see  exactly  how." 

"  No  ?  well  then,  I'll  split  the  log  for  you.  See 
here  now,  what  I  call  having  my  own  way,  is 
doing  a  thing  in  spite  of  what  other  people  may 
say  or  do  to  prevent  me  ;  and  what  I  call  doing 
as  I  please,  is  to  have  nobody  to  come  about  me 
and  put  on  their  wise  airs,  and  tell  me  I'd  better 
not.  or  I  shall  repent,  or  I'd  wish  some  day  or 
other  I'd  took  their  advice  ;  and  worry  and  fret 
a  feller's  soul  into  a  knot-hole,  so  that  when  he 
does  take  his  own  way  at  last,  he  wabbles  about 
like  a  broad-horn  in  an  eddy,  instead  of  shooting 
right  straight  ahead  like  all  nature,  and  after  all, 
as  I  said  before,  has  no  pleasure  in  having  his 
own  way.  There's  nothing  on  the  face  of  the 
earth  I  hate  so  much  as  advice." 

"  And  would  you  reject  the  advice  of  a  friend  ?" 

"  Friend !  I  don't  know  what  friend  means  ; 
except  somehow  I  think  I  might  be  wrought  upon 
to  stop  a  bullet  before  Colonel  Dangerfield.  He's 
a  man  now  that  I  would  allow  to  advise  me 
without  knocking  him  down  ;  I  liked  him  from 
the  first  hour  I  saw  him,  and  if  I  must  tell  the 
bare  truth,  I  do  believe  it  was  because  he  always 
took  my  advice  in  coming  down  the  Ohio,  and 
locating  his  settlement  and  all  that,  instead  of 
making  believe  he  knew  better  than  I ;  I  can't 
stand  mat,  no,  no,  I  can't  stand  that,  anyhow.  I'd 
blow  any  other  man  as  high  as  the  Alleghanies, 
if  he  was  to  go  to  advise  me,  But  as  I  was  say- 


184  WESTWARD    HO 

ing1 — I  wonder  what  keeps  the  old  cretur  so 
long  with  the  steaks  ? — as  I  was  saying,  it  was  a 
blue  day  when  I  first  put  this  old  rotten  tree  across 
my  path." 

"How came  you  to  commit  such  an  error?" 
"  Why,  I'll  tell  you  how  it  was.  I  had  lived 
here  I  don't  know  how  many  years,  for  it's  no 
matter  to  me  to  count  the  scores  of  winters  and 
summers,  and  springs  and  falls  ;  but  I  was  pre- 
haps,  stranger,  the  most  ahnightiest  happiest  feller 
that  ever  hunted  a  buffalo.  The  cretures  came 
sometimes  and  looked  into  my  door,  the  deer 
would  hardly  get  out  of  my  way,  and  the  bears 
and  wolves  came  growling  and  howling  round 
the  house  at  night  so  beautifully' — O!  if  you  only 
had  an  idea  of  the  splendid  independence  of  liv- 
ing in  the  woods  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  from 
anybody,  you'd  never  be  happy  anywhere  else, 
I'll  be  goy  blamed  if  you  would.  Only  think, 
stranger,  of  my  being  all  alone,  not  a  soul  to  lay 
so  much  as  a  straw  in  jny  way,  to  look  at  me,  or 
to  talk  to  me,  or  give  me  advice,  or  watch  which 
way  I  was  going,  or  inquire  what  I  was  going  to 
do, — O,  it  was  splendid !  If  I  wanted  any  thing 
to  eat,  instead  of  working  for  it  like  a  nigger,  I 
took  my  rifle  and  shot  a  deer  or  a  wild  turkey, 
for  they  were  so  thick  you  couldn't  miss  theni  ; 
if  I  wanted  amusement,  I  went  into  the  woods, 
and  had  a  hunt  after  the  bears  and  wolves,  who 
sometimes  made  battle  and  came  pretty  nigh  tree- 
ing me  ;  it  was  transcendent,  anyhow.  If  I 
wanted  a  rousing  fire,  I  went  just  outside  the  door 
and  cut  down  a  tree,  which  fell  right  under  the 
window,  and  I  had  no  trouble  to  tote  it  half  a 
mile.  I  only  wish  you  may  one  day  be  as  happy 
as  I  was,  but  that's  quite  beyond  the  Rocky 


WESTWARD   HO!  185 

Mountains,  for  the  Gar-broth  people  are  cluttering 
up  the  country  hereabouts  so  fast,  that  no  man 
will  be  able  to  do  as  he  pleases  much  longer. 
Well,  as  the  Old  Boy  would  have  it,  the  emigra- 
tion came  this  way  and  the  game  went  that,  so  I 
was  obliged  to  stay  out  sometimes  all  night 
in  the  winter  to  kill  a  deer,  and  I  got  the 
rheumatism.  I  was  pretty  considerably  nigh 
starving,  for  all  I  could  do  was  to  crawl  to  the 
door,  and  shoot  a  squirrel  or  a  woodpecker ;  it's 
mighty  bad  living  on  squirrels  and  woodpeckers. 
Well,  when  I  got  better,  I  thought  I  would  some- 
how go  and  buy  a  smart  chance  of  a  nigger  boy 
to  live  with  me,  and  help  along  in  case  I  should 
get  the  rheumatism  again,  for  it's  like  a  wolf,  it 
will  be  coming  back  where  it  has  had  the 
taste  of  blood.  But  then  I  had  not  money  enough 
for  this,  for  I  always  hated  to  have  more  than  I 
wanted,  and  so  I  took  old  Phillis.  whose  master 
gave  her  to  me  for  nothing,  and  a  bad  bargain  I 
have  had  of  her,  anyhow :  for  as  I  said  before  she 
takes  away  all  the  pleasure  of  having  my  own 
way,  which  is  almost  as  bad  as  not  having  my 
own  way  at  all.  Not  that  she  asks  any  questions, 
about  where  I  am  going  or  when  I  shall  come 
back,  but  she  looks  so  plaguy  curious  that  I'll  be 
goy  blamed  if  it  don't  sometimes  make  me  feel  as 
if  I  wasn't  my  own  master.  But  here  comes  the 
old  sinner ;  she  hangs  fire  like  a  rusty  rifle,  but 
always  goes  off  at  last." 

And  sure  enough,  the  savoury  odour  of  the  veni- 
son steaks,  which  far  transcends  any  thing  that  Ju- 
piter ever  snuffed  up  from  pagan  altars,  smote 
the  olfactory  nerves  of  Bushfield  with  such  a  tri- 
umphant relish  as  to  mollify  his  anger,  and  allay 
his  impatience,  of  this  new  species  of  petticoat  gov-, 


186  WESTWARD   HO1. 

ernmcnt ;  and  the  two  sat  down  to  the  banquet 
with  as  good  an  appetite  as  ever  fell  to  the  lot  of 
ancient  epicure,  or  modern  sojourner  in  that  great 
cook-shop  of  the  civilized  world  yclept  Paris. 


WESTWARD  HO!  18? 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

A  most  knotting  wife,  and  a  most  discreet  husband. 

THE  foregoing  was  one  of  the  longest  talks 
that  Bushfieid  probably  ever  held  in  the  whole 
course  of  his  life,  a  large  portion  of  which  had 
been  spent  in  solitude.  He  might  be  called  a 
hermit  of  a  rare  species.  One  who  loved  to  be 
alone,  not  for  the  purposes  of  pious  abstraction,  or 
uninterrupted  repose,  but  that  he  might  indulge 
his  own  active,  unrestrained  love  of  liberty  with- 
out interruption.  There  had  been  days,  nay 
years  of  his  life,  in  which  he  scarcely  spoke  to 
a  human  being ;  and  he  had  thus  acquired  a 
habit  of  taciturnity  which  could  with  difficulty  be 
overcome,  except  when  among  those  he  liked,  or 
animated  by  the  subject  of  the  happiness  of  his 
peculiar  mode  of  life.  He  lived,  for  the  most  part, 
with  his  dog  and  his  gun ;  and  the  encounter 
with  a  fellow-creature  in  the  woods  he  ranged, 
had  the  same  effect  on  him  that  the  presence  of  a 
wild  beast  in  a  populous  city  has  on  the  peace- 
able citizens.  It  was  an  intrusion,  and  excited  a 
strong  disposition  to  hunt  the  outlaw.  He  was 
not  by  any  means  devoid  of  excitement  in  his  so- 
litary abode,  for  hunting  had  become  a  habit,  a 
passion  ;  and  never  did  the  vainest  old  soldier  re- 
late his  exploits  in  the  field  with  a  higher  relish  of 
enthusiasm  than  did  our  sturdy  backwoodsman 
detail  his  triumphs  over  the  wild  animals  that 
peopled  his  woodland  domain.  In  doing  this,  he. 


188  WESTWARD   HO! 

like  the  war-worn  veteran  aforesaid,  was  prono 
to  make  inroads  upon  the  regions  of  the  imagi- 
nation, insomuch  that  some  01  his  stories  actually 
bordered  on  the  marvellous. 

Rainsford  accompanied  him  in  one  or  two  of  his 
enormous  peregrinations,  which  generally  lasted 
all  day,  and  would  have  consumed  the  night  too. 
had  he  not  protested  against  sleeping  in  the  open 
air,  though  Bushfield  swore,  "  like  all  wrath,"  that 
it  was  the  greatest  luxury  in  the  world.  But  two 
men  of  such  dissimilar  habits  seldom  covet  the 
society  of  each  other,  or  form  any  permanent 
friendship.  Each  secretly  despises  his  compan- 
ion. It  is  only  in  the  crowded  haunts,  and  among 
the  peaceful  occupations  of  mankind,  that  the  su- 
periority of  education,  intellectual  acquirements, 
and  gentlemanly  accomplishments,  are  highly 
valued  ;  and  it  is  only  on  the  exposed  frontiers  of 
life,  in  the  midst  of  perils  and  privations,  that 
hardy  daring,  and  the  capacity  to  endure  fatigue, 
are  estimated  at  their  proper  value. 

Rainsford  gave  out  the  third  day,  and  his  host 
voluntarily,  and  indeed  necessarily,  accompanied 
him  home  to  show  the  track  through  the  woods. 

"  Stranger,"  said  he,  "  you've  had  a  mighty 
poor  sort  of  a  raising,  I  should  reckon.  Why, 
you're  no  more  fit  for  the  woods  than  a  wild  tur- 
key is  for  a  justice  of  peace.  "What  would  you 
do  now  if  you  had  to  turn  out  every  day  and 
shoot  your  dinner,  or  go  without  it,  or  fight  a 
dozen  Indians  at  a  time,  or  find  your  way  through 
the  woods  two  or  three  hundred  miles,  without  a 
path,  and  nothing  to  eat  but  an  old  pair  of  moc- 
casins ?  I  wish  I  may  be  shot  if  I  don't  think  some 
of  our  old  Kentucky  women  would  cut  a  better 
rigure  than  you  do  here/1 


WESTWARD    HO!  189 

The  last  part  of  this  speech  grated  harshly  on 
the  feelings  of  Rainsford. 

"  And  what  would  you  do/'  replied  he,  "  if  you 
were  obliged  to  live  in  a  city,  change  your  linen 
twice  a  day,  and  your  coat  three  times;  gallant 
the  ladies  ;  attend  tea-parties ;  dance  the  waltz  ; 
and  go  through  all  the  ceremonies  of  good  breed- 
ing ?  "  'Faith,  I  think  you'd  cut  rather  a  more  ri- 
diculous figure  than  I  do  here  in  the  woods.  The 
ladies  would  all  run  away  from  such  a  savage, 
and  the  men  laugh  at  you." 

"  Would  they  !  If  they  attempted  to  folloAv 
such  a  track  as  that,  I'd  soon  tree  them.  If  I 
didn't  make  'em  shut  their  pans  quicker  than  a 
flash  of  lightning,  I  hope  I  may  be  civilized  to- 
morrow, as  you  cafl  it.  I  don't  much  mind  being 
shot  at,  nor  should  I  care  a  great  deal  about  run- 
ning the  gauntlet  Ingen  fashion,  because  I'm  used 
to  that.  But  let  me  give  you  one  piece  of  advice 
stranger,  never  laugh  at  a  feller  in  a  hunting-shirt, 
or  you'll  be  likely  to  get  a  most  almighty  lick- 
ing. You'll  be  down  as  quick  as  I  can  dodge 
an  Ingen 5  and  that's  quicker  than  wink,  any- 
how." 

The  return  of  Rainsford  Avas  welcomed  by  Vir- 
ginia with  mingled  emotions  of  pleasure  and 
pain  ;  by  Mrs.  Judith  with  most  extraordinary 
marks  of  satisfaction  ;  and  by  Master  Zeno  with 
wonderful  cordiality.  Since  his  departure  Mrs. 
Judith  had  laboured  under  a  fit  of  mortal  ennui, 
seeing  she  had  nobody  to  watch,  and  her  life  be- 
came as  it  were  a  dead  blank,  for  want  of  the  ex- 
citement of  curiosity.  There  was  not  a  secret 
stirring  in  the  whole  village  of  Dangerfieldville. 
Master  Zeno  had  a  still  better  reason  for  hailing 


190  WESTWARD   HO  I 

the  return  of  his  guest ;  it  was  now  almost  time  to 
begin  his  preparations  for  the  Daily,  and  he  took 
an  early  opportunity  of  jogging  Mr.  Rainsford's 
memory. 

"Well,  well,  sir"  rubbing  his  hands;  "I've 
kept  the  secret." 

"What  secret?" 

"  Why — why,  you  know,  the  secret  you  told — 
I  mean  that  I  happened,  by  the  merest  accident 
ill  the  world  to  overhear  in  the  woods.  The 
secret  that  you  are — hem  ! — " 

A  deep  paleness  passed  over  the  face  of  the 
young  man  ;  and  it  was  not  unnoticed  by  Master 
Zeno,  who  had  an  eye  and  an  ear  like  the  man  in 
the  fairy  tale ;  he  could  see  through  a  mountain,  and 
hear  the  grass  grow  when  a  secret  was  in  the  way. 

"  Well,"  and  he  vainly  essayed  a  melancholy 
smile.  "Well,  you  have  J^ept  your  word,  you 
say,  and  I  will  keep  mine.  Make  out  an  estimate 
of  the  cost  of  establishing  a  paper." 

«  A  daily,  sir  ?" 

"  Ay,  a  daily,  if  you  wish.  I  will  give  you  an 
order  on  a  merchant,  who  has  money  of  mine  in 
his  hands,  at  Pittsburg.  And  you  can  very  likely 
procure  all  the  materials  you  want  at  that  place." 

"  Here  it  is,  sir,  here's  the  estimate.  I've  had 
it  ready  ever  since  I  overheard,  by  the  merest 
accident  in  the  world,  you  were — hem.  What  a 
fortunate  man  I  am  !" 

"Very,"  said  the  other,  dryly,  and  he  went  and 
wrote,  and  returned  with  an  order  for  the  money 
required. 

"  I'm  afraid  I'm  robbing  you,  sir,"  said  Master 
Zeno,  after  putting  up  the  draft  snugly  in  an  old 
leather  convenience  called  a  pocket-book.  "  But 


WESTWARD   HO!  191 

you  may  calculate  on  me  to  a  certainty.  Til  keep 
your  secret,  sir  ;  and  if  anybody  dares  to  accuse 
you  of  being  a — hem — I'll  attack  them  in  my  Daily, 
in  such  a  style  they'll  be  glad  to  be  quiet.  But 
really,  sir,  I'm  afraid  I'm  robbing  you." 

"  No,  not  in  the  least.  I  am  in  possession  of  more 
than  I  want ;  far  more  than  I  shall  ever  live  to 
use.  It  is  no  pleasure  to  me  to  be  rich,  for  when 
I  think  of  the  manner  in  which  I  became  so,  I 
loathe  the  very  name  of  money.  I  would  will- 
ingly be  made  a  public  example ;  that  my  secret 
should  be  exposed  to  the  world,  so  I  could  bring 
back  to  life,  and  its  best  gift,  those  to  whom  it 
once  belonged,  and  restore  all  I  ha^je  received,  to 
its  owners.  You  are  welcome  to  the  money,  so 
you  only  make  a  good  use  of  it." 

"  I  will  enlighten  the  universe,"  said  Zeno  ; 
and  they  parted  just  at  the  moment  Mrs.  Judith 
had  applied  her  ear  to  the  keyhole,  or  rather  to  a 
knothole,  for  other  there  was  none. 

She  heard  nothing,  save  the  latter  part  of  the 
last  speech  of  -  Ramsford,  about  being  made 
a  public  example — of  restoring  the  money  to 
those  to  whom  it  once  belonged ;  and  above  all, 
the  never  to  be  forgotten  words ;  "  Take  the 
money,  so  you  only  make  a  good  use  of  it."  And 
she  resolved  within  her  secret  soul  to  take  special 
care  that  this  last  injunction  was  complied  with. 

Master  Paddock  remained  on  the  exact  spot 
where  he  had  been  left  by  Rainsford,  cogitating 
on  the  full  and  free  confession  he  had  just  heard 
from  that  wicked,  yet  inconsiderate  youth,  as  he 
now  felt  satisfied  he  was.  " c  To  those  to  whom 
it  once  belonged.5  These  were  his  very  words. 
Then  he  must  have  robbed  and  murdered' at  least 
two  persons  !  What  a  diabolical  young  sinner  | 


192  WESTWARD   HO! 

I  wish  I  had  made  him  pay  double  for  keeping 
his  secret.  But  never  mind,  I'll  get  more  out  of 
him,  I  warrant.  And  when  I've  got  all  I  can, 
why  I'll  quiet  my  conscience  by  getting  the 
young  rascal  hanged." 

Having  come  to  this  righteous  conclusion,  he 
turned  round,  and  turning  saw  the  head  of  Holo- 
fernes  within  what  is  called  striking  distance,  for 
it  certainly  struck  him  dumb. 

"  My  dear,"  quoth  the  enchanted  head,  "  how 
much  money  did  Mr.  Rainsford  give  you  to  keep 
his  secret  ?" 

"  Pooh  !    What  money  ?  what  secret  T 

"  Ah  !  heigho  ! — what  a  wicked  world  this  is. 
Now,  who'd  have  thought  such  a  nice  young  man 
was  a — " 

"A  what?" 

"  Hem — ah  ! — heigho  ! — it's  a  very  scandalous 
world.  I  sometimes  almost  wish  I  was  out  of  it. 
But  come  now,  tell  me  how  much  money  you  got 
for  keeping  the  secret ;  now  do,  Zeno  !"  and  she 
fawned  on  him  like  a  roaring  lioness, 

"  Pooh  !  pooh  ! — nonsense.  I've  got  no  money 
— how  should  you  know  any  thing  about  it  ?" 

"  Why,  then,  if  you  must  know,  I'll  tell  you.  I 
happened  to  be  in  the  next  room,  and  I  happened 
to  hear  every  thing  you  said,  and  I  know  all 
about  it.  There  now,  are  you  sat isfied  ?  Heigho ! 
what  a  wicked  world  we  live  in  !" 

"  Why  then,  if  you  know  all,  I  may  as  well  tell 
you,  I  suppose." 

"  Yes,  yes — do,  do,  do— oh  !"  and  she  discovered 
such  an  itching  curiosity,  that  the  shrewd  Zeno 
was  convinced  she  pretended  to  know  more  than 
she  really  did ;  whereupon,  he  coolly  replied, — 

"But  now  I  think  of  it,  if  you  do  really  know 


WESTWARD   HO!  193 

all,  there  is  no  occasion  to  waste  time  in  telling 
you."  And  so  saying-,  he  walked  out  of  the  room 
with  the  air  of  a  man  having  money  in  his  pocket, 
which,  we  presume,  is  what  is  called  the  air  noble. 

Had  it  not  been  for  one  single  resource,  Mrs. 
Judith  would  have  undoubtedly  burst  the  boiler 
of  her  curiosity,  and  exploded  into  scalding  steam 
instead  of  tears.  People  who  live  in  the  great 
world,  surrounded  by  excitements  of  a  thousand 
various  kinds,  and  with  a  thousand  resources  for 
passing  away  the  time,  can  form  no  idea  of  the 
biting  curiosity  of  a  real  full-blooded  village  gos- 
sip, who,  having  little  employment  at  home,  has 
no  other  resource  for  passing  the  idle  hours  than 
prying  into  the  affairs  of  her  neighbours.  It  be- 
comes, not  only  a  passion,  but  the  master  passion 
of  the  soul,  and  swallows  up  all  the  others,  as  the 
rod  of — no,  hang  it !  that's  too  musty — as  the 
mighty  Mississippi  swallows  up  a  hundred  mighty 
streams. 

Next  to  the  pleasure  of  gaining  a  secret,  that  of 
telling  it  is  held  the  most  delectable ;  nay,  some 
who  have  investigated  this  matter  more  deeply 
are  inclined  to  the  opinion  that  the  after-pleasure 
of  telling,  like  the  dessert  of  a  modern  lady's  din- 
ner, is  the  better  part  of  the  feast.  However  this 
may  be,  there  is  no  doubt  in  our  minds  that  Mrs. 
Judith  Paddock  would  have  met  with  a  catastro- 
phe, had  she  not  forthwith  solaced  her  disap- 
pointment at  failing  to  get  at  the  whole  secret  by 
communicating  the  portion  she  did  know,  to  the 
first  person  she  could  get  to  listen  to  it,  which  un- 
fortunately happened  to  be  Miss  Virginia  Danger- 
field.  She  sought  that  young  maiden,  who,  in 
truth,  could  scarcely  bear  the  sight  of  her  since 
the  communication  of  this  being  such  a  wicked 

VOL,  i, — i  17 


194  WESTWARD   HO! 

worldj  such  a  scandalous  world.  She  never 
saw  her  coming  across  the  way  without  feeling 
a  shivering  presentiment  of  some  unwelcome 
news ;  but  such  is  the  strange  inconsistency  of 
human  nature,  that  she  still  would  linger  and 
listen,  though  perhaps  every  word  was  a  dagger 
to  her  heart.  There  is  a  sort  of  supernatural  fas- 
cination in  fear,  and,  above  all,  in  horrible  reali- 
ties. The  gentlest,  tenderest  portion  of  the  human 
race,  that  portion  whose  charity  is  untiring,  whose 
pity  never  dies — need  I  name  woman  ? — which  is 
the  most  fearful,  the  most  apprehensive,  the  most 
delicate,  dwells  with  most  intense  interest,  arid 
lingers  most  devotedly  over  the  page  where 
horrors  are  accumulated  on  horrors,  and  wick- 
edness is  displayed  in  the  most  atrocious  col- 
ours of  utter  abandonment.  We  see  decent  wo- 
men thronging  from  all  parts  of  the  country  to 
witness  the  last  agonies  of  a  dying  villain  who 
falls  a  merited  sacrifice  to  the  sanctity  of  the  laws 
and  the  safety  of  society ;  not  because  they  are 
cruel,  but  that  they  are  attracted  by  the  grateful 
horrors  of  the  scene,  fascinated  by  the  witchcraft 
of  the  terrible.  All  our  readers  will  probably 
recollect  occasions  when  some  horribly  disgusting 
or  exquisitely  painful  exhibition  of  the  vices  or 
infirmities  of  human  nature  in  its  lowest  stage  of 
degradation  and  misery  has  suddenly  presented 
itself.  They  have  turned  away  in  thrilling  hor- 
ror as  they  passed ;  yet,  strange  to  tell,  curiosity, 
or  rather  the  fascination  of  the  terrible,  has 
wrested  from  them  by  force  a  single  glance,  and 
that  glance  has  impressed  the  scene  so  keenly  on 
the  imagination,  as  to  haunt  it  by  day  and  appear 
as  a  spectre  by  night  for  a  long  while  afterwards. 
r.  It  was  thus  with  Virginia,  who,  while  she 


WESTWARD   HO!  195 

shrunk  with  averted  mind  from  the  mere  idea  of 
the  possibility  of  the  suspicions  of  Mrs.  Judith 
being  true,  was  yet  irresistibly  impelled  to  listen 
to  every  new  surmise  and  every  questionable  cir- 
cumstance that,  while  it  increased  her  doubts, 
added  to  her  sufferings.  Already  had  that  strug- 
gle between  the  heart  and  the  reason  commenced 
in  her  mind,  to  which  it  falls  to  the  lot  of  so 
many  gentle  beings  either  to  yield  unresisting  vic- 
tims, or,  if  victors^  to  conquer  at  the  price  of  the 
loss  of  all  that  vivacity  of  hope,  that  thrilling 
sense  of  pleasure,  which  makes  us  look  up  from 
the  dark  valley  of  the  shadow  of  old  age  with 
a  long,  lingering,  wishful  eye,  at  the  sunshiny 
region  of  youth,  from  which  we  have  impercep- 
tibly slidden  for  ever. 

To  such  croaking  ravens  as  Mrs.  Judith,  there 
is  nothing  so  grateful  as  to  excite  surprise,  won- 
der, pleasure,  pain,  any  striking  or  violent  emo- 
tion; it  is  all  one  to  them,  provided  they  can 
excite  something.  Indifference  gives  them  the 
fidgets  irretrievably.  Mrs.  Judith  had  for  this 
reason  particular  pleasure  in  telling  Virginia  any 
thing  which  was  calculated  to  increase  her  suspi- 
cions of  Rainsford,  for  she  saw  it  created  the  most 
intense  and  painful  interest.  She  began,  as  usual, 
with  the  eternal  gossip  cant  of  the  wickedness  of 
this  world,  the  propensity  to  scandal,  &c.  &c..  and 
finally  disclosed,  not  only  what  she  had  heard,  but 
what  she  imagined  of  what  she  had  not  heard  of 
the  conversation  between  Rainsfcrd  and  Master 
Zeno,  not  by  any  means  omitting  the  large  sum 
of  money  the  former  had  given  her  husband  to 
keep  his  secret.  "  If  it  is  not  a  wicked  and  abomi- 
nable secret,  why  should  he  bribe  my  Zeno  to 


196  WESTWARD  HO! 

keep  it  ?  Ah  !  heigho  !  what  a  wicked  world, 
what  a  scandalous  world  we  live  in  T 

Poor  Virginia  !  what  a  situation  was  thine,  and 
what  a  struggle  hadst  thou  to  go  through  in  order 
to  hide,  if  possible,  in  the  foldsx>f  thine  innocent 
heart  the  poisonous  asp  that  lay  coiled  there  in- 
stilling his  deadly  poisons ! 

"You  don't  seem  well  somehow,  Miss  Phi- 
ginny,"  said  this  mischievous  incendiary,  after  sit- 
ting in  simpering  hypocritical  sympathy,  watching 
the  war  of  feelings  reflected  in  the  changeful 
countenance  of  the  young  maiden ;  "  you  don't 
seem  well.  Let  me  advise  you  to  take  some 
spring  physic — some  yerbs ;  do  now,  dear  Miss 
Phiginny.  Ah  !  heigho  !  this  is  a  wicked,  a  scan- 
dalous world  !"  and  the  woman  departed  to  watch, 
but  not  to  pray. 

Mrs.  Dangerfield  came  in  a  few  minutes  after, 
and  found  Virginia  sitting  still,  and  white  as  a 
statue,  unconscious  of  existence.  She  started 
as  her  mother  entered,  and,  throwing  her  arms 
about  her  neck,  melted  into  a  quiet  shower  of 
tears. 

"My  dear  Virginia,  what  is  the  matter  with 
you  ?" 

"  I  don't  know ;  I  cannot  tell  you  now,  my  dear 
mother ;  but  in  a  little  while,  as  soon  as  I  know 
more,  you  shall  know  all." 

"In  your  own  good  time,  my  daughter;  but 
remember,  there  are  no  sorrows,  no  perplexities, 
no  wishes,  no  disappointments  which  a  virtuous 
and  obedient  daughter  ought  to  keep  long  from 
the  ear  of  a  kind,  arTectionate  mother." 

"  You  shall  know  all ;  I  promise  you  shall  know 
all  as  soon  as  I  know  it  myself." 

"  I  am  content,  dear  Virginia ;  and  "now  cheer 


WESTWARD   HO!  197 

up,  for  I  see  Mr.  Rainsford  has  returned  from  his 
visit  to  Bushfield,  and  is  crossing  over  this  way." 
The  young  lady  retired  for  a  few  minutes,  and 
met  Rainsford  with  an  effort  to  be  cheerful. 


198  WESTWARD  HO! 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

Proving  that  the  chief  use  of  words  is  to  mar  our 
meaning. 

THE  meeting  between  Virginia  and  Rainsford 
was  awkward  and  embarrassing.  Each  was  con- 
scious of  possessing  a  secret,  and  each  equally 
apprehensive  of  betraying  it  to  the  other.  Vir- 
ginia could  not  but  perceive  that  Rainsford  dis- 
played a  degree  of  shyness  which  she  suspected 
arose  from  his  recollection  of  the  emotion  he  had 
betrayed  at  hearing  the  story  of  the  mad  Indian  : 
while  Rainsford  thought  he  perceived  in  her  coun- 
tenance an  expression  half  tender,  half  fearful,  and 
in  her  eyes  the  traces  of  tears.  She  forced  her- 
self to  question  him  as  to  the  incidents  of  his  visit 
to  Bushfield ;  he  prosed  away  on  the  subject  till 
both  were  heartily  tired ;  and,  in  short,  they  talked 
of  every  thing  except  the  subject  which  really  oc- 
cupied their  minds. 

But  they  say  murder  will  out  at  last ;  and  how- 
ever we  may  play  about  a  subject  of  deep  interest 
for  a  while,  like  a  moth  round  the  candle,  we  are 
pretty  certain  to  singe  our  wings  with  it  in  the 
end.  The  exquisite  pain  she  had  endured  under 
the  pressure  of  the  growing  suspicion  which  in 
spite  of  herself  still  rankled  in  her  heart,  had 
brought  her  to  the  conviction  it  was  necessary 
to  her  future  peace  that  his  guilt  or  innocence 
should  be  established.  If  the  former,  she  had 


WESTWARD   HO!  199 

made  up  her  mind  to  warn  him  to  leave  the  place 
for  ever,  and  to  forget,  if  possible,  every  feeling 
towards  him  but  that  of  gratitude ;  and  if  the  latter, 
it  was  due  to  his  honour,  as  well  as  to  her  own  hap- 
piness, that  he  should  have  an  opportunity  of  estab- 
lishing it  beyond  doubt  or  contradiction.  But  to 
put  the  direct  question  to  a  man  to  whom  she  was 
under  so  deep  an  obligation,  and  with  whom  she 
was  associating  almost  every  day  on  terms  of  in- 
timacy, required  a  hardihood  of  which  she  had  at 
no  period  been  mistress.  Several  times  she  es- 
sayed to  touch  the  subject,  but  as  often  her  heart 
failed  her ;  and  after  talking  themselves  weary 
about  nothing,  a  dead,  oppressive  silence  ensued. 
Chance,  however,  at  length  brought  them  to  the 
subject  nearest  her  heart.  Rainsford  had  roused 
himself  to  observe,  that  as  the  spring  was  approach- 
ing, he  intended  soon  to  take  possession  of  his 
house,  and  begin  his  new  settlement. 

"  You  will  be  very  solitary ;  but  perhaps  the 
precepts  and  example  of  Mr.  Bushfield  have  made 
you  in  love  with  the  independence  of  living 
alone?" 

"  No,"  replied  the  young  man  ;  "  loneliness  has 
no  charms  for  me.  I  hate  a  crowd  as  much  as  I 
fear — I  mean  dislike  being  alone.  But  I  confess 
there  is  one  thing  which  reconciles  me  in  some 
degree  to  leaving  the  society  of  my  friends,  and 
that  is,  the  idea  of  escaping  the  eternal  inquisition 
of  Mrs.  Judith  Paddock.  I  never  met  with  so 
troublesome  a  woman  in  my  life." 

"  Why,  she  certainly  is  the  gossip  of  the  village." 

"  Yes,  and  so  fond  of  getting  at  the  secrets  of 

'other  people,  only  that  she  may  keep  them  from 

other  people.     I  saw  her  leave  this  house  a  few 

minutes  ago  brimful  of  something.    I  hope  you 


200  WESTWARD  HO! 

-     TlUNt 

*. 

have  not  trusted  her  with  any  of  your  secrets," 
said  he,  smiling. 

"  No !"  and  her  heart  palpitated  as  she  pro- 
ceeded ;  "  no,  but  she  intrusted  me  with  the  secret 
of  another" 

Rainsford  gave  a  slight  start;  and  Virginia, 
who  forced  herself  to  look  him  full  in  the  eye, 
fancied  she  saw  an  increase  of  paleness  in  a  face 
that  was  always  pale.  The  ice  being  broken,  she 
nerved  herself  for  the  crisis,  as  all  minds  of  a 
higher  order  do  when  once  it  has  arrived. 

"  She  told  me  something  that  deeply  concerns 
you  and,  I  will  confess  it,  me  also  ;  for  I  cannot 
be  indifferent  to  the  character  and  actions  of  the 
man  to  whom  I  am  so  deeply  obliged." 

a  Me  ?  What  can  she  say,  what  can  she  know 
of  me  ?  I  assure  you,  Miss  Dangerfield,  she  can 
know  nothing  of  me.  I  have  never  made  her  my 
confidant." 

"But  confidence  is  not  always  necessary  in 
these  cases.  An  involuntary  look ;  a  sudden 
start ;  an  indiscreet  word ;  a  habit  of  talking  to 
one's  self ;  a  thousand  little  indications  of  which 
we  are  not  aware,  or  cannot  restrain,  are  the 
agents  by  which  guilt,  or  misery,  let  out  their 
deep  buried  secrets."  The  strong  feeling  which 
had  taken,  possession  of  the  soul  of  the  young 
maiden,  communicated  firmness  to  her  nerves,  and 
enabled  her  to  look  Rainsford  in  the  face  during 
this  speech,  with  a  firm,  yet  gentle  melancholy 
expression.  With  a  thrilling  pang  she  saw  him 
wince  and  quiver  with  emotion,  as  thus  she 
touched  the  string  whose  music  was  the  howl  of 
the  demon  that  beset  his  steps  by  day  and  by 
night,  He  mastered  his  feelings  however  5  and 


WESTWARD    HO!  201 

collecting  all  the  energies  of  despair,  asked  in  a 
firm  manly  tone  for  further  explanation. 

"  You  ought  to  know  it ;  and  I  and  my  family 
at  least,  ought  to  know  if  what  Mrs.  Paddock  says 
she  has  heard,  and  seen,  and  suspects,  is  true  or 
false." 

"  What — what  has  she  heard  ?  what  has  she 
seen  ?  and  what  does  she  suspect  ?"  said  the 
young  man,  almost  furiously. 

"  I — I — cannot — yes  !  I  will  tell  you — what  I 
will  not  deny,  has  almost — has  rendered  it  abso- 
lutely necessary,  if  it  be  true,  that  you — that  we 
should  never  meet  again  ;  that  you  should  quit 
this  place  and  never  return." 

"Well,  let  me  hear  it,  Virginia,"  replied  he,  in  a 
hoarse  voice  ;  and  leaning  back  in  his  chair  he 
awaited  what  was  to  follow,  with  the  feelings  of 
one  whose  conscience  has  already  whispered  the 
secret. 

Virginia,  then,  with  a  kind  solemnity,  detailed 
to  him  the  substance  of  the  two  confidential  com- 
munications of  Mrs.  Judith,  at  the  same  time 
refraining  from  making  any  comments,  or  draw- 
ing any  conclusions.  It  was  impossible  ;  it  was 
not  in  her  heart ;  and  if  it  had  been,  it  was  not  in 
her  tongue  to  hint  at  the  seeming  evident  conclu- 
sion, arising  from  such  extraordinary  emotion, 
and  such  a  bribe  offered  for  secrecy. 

As  she  proceeded,  the  feelings  of  Rainsford 
became  more  apparent ;  he  trembled  ;  he  gasped 
for  breath  ;  he  clasped  his  hands,  and  finally  co- 
vered his  face  and  wept  aloud,  as  if  his  heart  was 
breaking.  The  agitation  of  Virginia  was  almost 
equal  to  his  own,  and  she  kept  him  company  in 
silent  tears.  At  length  recovering  herself  she  put 
the  question  directly. 


202  WESTWARD    HO! 

"Is  the  tale  of  Mrs.  PaddocK  true?" 

"  It  is— but— " 

"Then  let  us  never  see  each  other  more.  I 
cannot  betray  you.  But  you  must  leave  this 
place  for  ever." 

"  But,  Virginia  !  Miss  Dangerfield — let  me  ex- 
plain— " 

"  I  want  no  explanations ;  nothing  you  can 
say  will  remove  or  soften  the  dreadful  feelings 
your  presence  now  inspires.  Leave  me— I  forgive 
you.  I — I  pity  you." 

"  But,  dear  Virginia — " 

"  Dear  Virginia  !  How  dare  a  wretch  like  you 
apply  that  epithet  to  a  virtuous  woman  ?" 

"  I  am  a  wretch ;  the  veriest  of  all  wretches 
that  ever  crawled  on  the  earth,  and  cursed  the 
hour  he  was  born.  But  my  misfortune  ought  not 
to  deprive  me  of  all  sympathy.  God  knows  I 
want  it." 

"  Misfortune  !"  cried  she,  contemptuously. 

"  /  at  least  cannot  help  what  I  am  ;  it  was,  or  it 
will  be  the  work  of  fate ;  the  curse  of  inherit- 
ance." 

"  The  work  of  fate  !"  cried  Virginia,  passion- 
ately. "  Yes  !  this  is  the  blasphemous  cant  of 
every  wretched  being,  who  thus  attempts  to  fasten 
the  temptations  of  Satan  on  the  dispensations  of 
Heaven,  and  vindicate  himself  by  accusing  his 
God.  Go,  go — leave  me,  and  for  ever,  for  the 
more  you  attempt  to  extenuate,  the  more  I  loathe 
you.  May  Heaven  forgive  me  for  saying  so  to 
the  saviour  of  my  life  !" 

"  Well,  madam,  I  icill  go,"  s?id  he,  proudly. 
"  I  will  try  to  forget  you :  but  if  I,  cannot,  I  will 
at  least  endeavour  to  remember  you  only  as  one 


WESTWARD   HO!  203 

who  is  an  exception  to  the  rest  of  her  gentle  sex, 
in  being  without  pity." 

"  Pity  !  is  not  the  tale  of  Mrs.  Paddock  true?" 

"  It  is  ;  I  cannot  deny  it." 

"  Then,  why  are  you  here,  sir  ?" 

"  I  am  gone,  madam." 

"  Miserable,  hardened  wretch  !"  exclaimed  Vir- 
ginia, as  he  shut  the  door  and  departed,  with  the 
insolent  air  of  an  injured  man. 


END   OF   VOL.  I, 


v. 


997859 


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